


The Same Deep Water As You

by haikuesque



Series: Same Deep Water Universe [1]
Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitute, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-10
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 58
Words: 445,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikuesque/pseuds/haikuesque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kame's got his reasons for seeing prostitutes. Jin's got his reasons for being one. Life is pretty screwed up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Authors: [Solo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Solo/profile) & [Jo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jo_Lasalle/pseuds/Jona%20Lasalle) as [haikuesque](http://archiveofourown.org/users/haikuesque)  
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Alternate Universe fiction. None of this is true.  
> Warnings: [If there are any warnings for this story, you will find them here.](http://ponymeter.dreamwidth.org/4114.html)  
> Notes: [Story notes and acknowledgements are here.](http://haikuesque.net/deepwater/dwwaffle.htm)
> 
> The picture is still on the screen, looking out at him, a soft face in a mass of dark wavy hair which seems to invite touch even now. The mouth isn't bad, either. Probably a very flattering shot, but that's the point, isn't it.  
> 

  
**Tuesday 02 September**

### Chiba

Kame stops with the meaningless piece of writing in his hand, gives it its moment of stunned deliberation, then puts it down slowly on the cheap wood of the desk. The focus on him as he takes those two steps towards Toyoda-san has grown sharp, the silence tense. "You don't want the truth," he says with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment, ignoring the bright glare coming in through the windows that is starting to hurt his eyes. It's supposed to be early spring, but Kame has been sweating under his dark corduroy jacket for the last hour and a half. "You're teaching these boys how to lie."

Toyoda looks like she's been slapped. Again. It's starting to get to him.

"I want to teach them how to survive once they get out of here," she replies, a subtle crack to her voice. "How to make something of their lives." She's given them all sorts of degrees of defiance but now she's hitting desperate. Kame isn't sure if she's trying new things or if she's losing composure and making the best of it. He wants to give her an encouraging look, but there's no room for that. "This isn't some story where all you have to be is honest and trying hard and then your mistakes will be forgiven. For these boys—" She adds a pause and an imploring gesture that are new, but nobody calls her on it. At the edge of Kame's vision Morioka and his peers are reacting to her words. It would have looked better with defiant, though. "All it takes is that one mistake." She's shaking her head again, but it's a little too fast, she's rushing them. "There's no second chances here."

"There are always second chances," Kame corrects her emphatically, though her sceptical little frown isn't forthcoming now. "And just because the world isn't always fair it doesn't mean we should say that it's okay to lie, or that it's an excuse to take it out on others." He pulls back his shoulders and remembers that they said they'd do something about the fact that she's actually taller than him. "That's not what I became a teacher for."

The tension holds for a moment; they have shot the rest of his speech from a different angle and were pleased with him after the second take. Then there's the cut, and everyone in the room seems to slump a little, everyone but Toyoda, who avoids the passing glances by focussing on the paper prop on the desk.

This has officially gone on too long. People are starting to forget lines they've been repeating all afternoon. Nogushi Yukiko pushes herself out of the headmistress' chair – the leather is worn and shabby but they put Nogushi-san in a designer suit anyway – and tries to roll stiffness out of her shoulders. She has two lines in this scene and delivered them with her usual charisma, but the rest of her job this afternoon consisted of sitting rigidly in a chair. The boys start whispering together, and Kobi-kun, who plays the nerd to Morioka Akihito's troubled rebel, pushes up his thick-framed glasses to wipe sweat off the bridge of his nose.

The girl who plays Morioka's older sister has been on set all day waiting for them to get around to shooting her scene, and it never happened. She seems happy enough to stick around, though, showing everyone in general and Iijima in particular how eager and uncomplicated she is.

Toyoda gives Kame a small, tight smile while they wait. He smiles back, tries for reassuring. An assistant passes water around and the make-up artist fusses with Morioka's bruised cheek and Nogushi-san's hair.

Then, finally, comes Iijima's call from the director's chair, "All right, everyone! We've got it now." It wraps up filming for the day for the teachers, a good four hours behind schedule. The boys were supposed to shoot a separate scene, but Kame remembers something about a music rehearsal of some kind they have to be at later.

He follows his colleagues as they flock towards the coffee cart, ignoring the hushed discussion between Iijima and the camera crew over the last of the dailies. Toyoda is hanging back, though she's stepped out of the set lights, her fingers nervous at her sides as she finds herself an unobtrusive spot to stand.

Fukushima Minoru lets Nogushi-san make her selection first, making some respectful chit-chat, but she declines the sugar he offers her. Like everyone else on set, Kame is very aware that they've used an entire day of Nogushi's contractually limited set presence on two brief scenes. The producers aren't going to be happy.

Nogushi steps back with her foamy mug and nods at Kame, looking neither annoyed nor enamoured by her young co-stars and the rocky first few days of shooting they've had so far. But on her way to the assistant director's empty folding chair she gives Toyoda a brief smile, saying, "Your second take was very good, I thought."

Nogushi isn't the type to walk around praising people, but Toyoda merely thanks her politely, her reactions carefully blank.

Fukushima ignores her as he goes to join Nogushi, and Kame tries to ignore the string of flattering comments that start drifting over, especially the ones that mention Kamenashi-san's hard work. The girl who plays the sister is laughing at some joke of Iijima's, shyly and with a pretty little blush, while the boys are a noisy cluster at his right, waiting for their turn at the cart and sharing weekend adventures, their voices dropping for the interesting bits.

He catches Toyoda's fleeting glance while he waits for his espresso to come hissing out of the machine, but she looks away quickly as if she doesn't want to bother him, or doesn't know what to do with her eyes.

So he grabs one of the mugs and presses the button for decaf.

She smiles a little too gratefully when he hands her the mug, but then she takes a sip and makes a face, and that is better.

Kame sips at his own little cup twice, holding the saucer steady. "You showed a lot of range today," he says eventually, even though he feels a little awkward about it. "I'm glad to be working with you on this film."

She doesn't manage blank this time. After a moment, she mumbles another thank you, forgetting even to add any pleasantries in return – which is good, because that wasn't the point, anyway.

"I heard you have to stick around?" he asks.

She nods. "Shoe fitting." She sounds a little embarrassed. Kame involuntarily looks down at her feet, and they're a little embarrassed together.

The boys are trying to see how many espressos they can fill into one mug before it flows over – the answer turns out to be five by Kame's count – and then they look sheepish when Morioka, reminding Kame of an annoyed older brother, says that now they should at least drink the stuff. Their characters are all the same age, and Morioka plays his sullen, troubled seventeen-year-old so young and so fragile you'd never know he's already twenty-one himself, but once the cameras are off, the difference to the boys who play his friends becomes obvious.

Kame isn't sure if having three overcaffeinated teenagers on set is a price worth paying for this particular lesson, but Morioka is the one who still has to film with them.

"First soccer-field scene tomorrow," Toyoda says, but sceptically, given how the weather's been all week. They're scheduled to start at eleven, to make the most of the midday light.

Kame is glancing around for the director, wondering if there's a chance he can get home before the worst of the rush hour, but he smiles at Toyoda anyway. "At least they'll know what to do with their energy then."

*~*~*

Kame has already changed out of his character's ordinary-looking and unstylish – if very well tailored – teacher garb into his own jeans and old polo shirt and is packing up his stuff when Iijima comes striding into the cast break room and announces a small change of plans.

Toyoda-san looks up from her paperback with instant wariness, though she tries to hide it. Nogushi-san is still in her set clothes – both women have been told to stick around for wardrobe adjustments, and they're waiting for the tailor. She's enjoying a chat with Fukushima, and Iijima gives first her, then Kame an at least somewhat apologetic glance at whatever he's about to spring on them.

"Soga Jou has had to cancel the Friday shoot and asked us to make other arrangements."

Kame's immediate reaction to yet another scheduling mess when they've been shooting for less than a week is one he chooses to keep to himself. He's worked with the photographer before, on the promotion of the unemployment movie Kame did last year, and there's a famous half-profile shot of him in front of a run-down train station that Midori finds so stunning she insisted they hang it up in her office, even though neither of them likes having tidbits of Kame's fame decorate the house. Getting Soga Jou on board for their first serious promotional shoot is very fortunate, and it's easy to see why production would try to accommodate him.

"In light of the weather and Soga-san's availability," Iijima continues, "we're going to move the photo shoot up to tomorrow morning. Nogushi-san, if you could be here at ten as planned, Soga-san would start with the group shots then."

With the evening shoot taken off the Friday agenda, they're going to get off unexpectedly early for the weekend, Kame realizes. He's going to have to cancel on Tatsuya.

Iijima is still talking. "I apologise for the inconvenience. We have to start early tomorrow. Soga-san is going to be ready to start at six. Toyoda-san, could you be here at five-thirty to get ready for your close-ups?"

That's harsh. That's obvious, even, and not just to Kame. Nogushi regards Toyoda with a look that holds some pity, whereas Fukushima isn't shy about putting his opinion into a smirk, and Matsura Juri the industrious sister has momentarily forgotten to look sweet and loveable as she waits for Toyoda's reaction. The boys might just be glad it's not them, but Morioka seems to have sensed that something is up even if his face shows mostly puzzlement.

Toyoda is trying her best at a polite little smile but just now her best amounts to little more than frozen.

"Excuse me," Kame says before she can open her mouth and before he can imagine getting up at fucking four in the morning, if not earlier. "If it's not too inconvenient, I would like to go first. I have another appointment tomorrow and would like to be done with my individual shots as early as possible."

Now they're all staring at him, but Kame doesn't care much, even if he vaguely hopes he won't have to pull an appointment he could have in the middle of a day of shooting out of the air. Though he will if he has to. It's not like he doesn't have the acting skills to sell it.

Iijima blinks in surprise. "You'll be shot with Morioka-kun," he points out. "I thought we'd have you two closer to the group shots."

It hangs in the air; by now it's clear that Morioka's filming will go on late into the evening, but before Kame can even feel conflicted Morioka interrupts, "I totally don't mind," looking a bit bewildered as to what's actually going on but happy enough to help out the star of this picture.

Kame gives him a quick, grateful bow. "I'd appreciate it," he says to Iijima, like he trusts that the director is going to help out the star of his picture as well, and after a very brief moment Iijima relents.

"Of course," he says. "Morioka-kun should be here by seven then. So that means Toyoda-san at eight-thirty." The look he throws her is not nearly as polite as his voice. "Please be on time."

Toyoda turns to look at Kame as soon as Iijima has left the room, but she can't say anything, and Kame shrugs lightly, giving her a quick smile as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

*~*~*

He stops by the canteen to pick up some bottled water for the drive, because by now he's almost certain to get stuck in traffic no matter where he goes for the night. It's a long line, with most of the crew taking advantage of the break between scenes. Kame can feel the glances, knows they'd let him jump the queue, but he keeps his eyes to himself, legitimately withdrawn after a long day at work.

Shuffling towards the register, he thinks through logistics more logically. Midori will be home tonight, but the idea of commuting from the house for a six a.m. shoot is eating at his mood already. Since his Friday schedule just got curtailed, he might make use of getting home early then, and take her out somewhere. He hasn't done that in a while.

With his water paid for and any further conversation avoided, he stops by the bathroom and then finds himself a quiet corner outside the emergency stairwell to call his wife.

He catches her on a break between castings; some sort of friendly banter is going on in the background when she picks up, but Kame is glad he doesn't have to hash this out with her voicemail. "Midori. It's me."

"Hey!" She sounds like she's in a good mood. "How was the filming?" The voices in the background drop in volume, and Kame imagines Midori's friendly shushing gesture. "Or aren't you done yet?"

"I'm done," he says. He hears the relaxed voices of Morioka and Kobi a moment before they walk within his line of sight, but when they see he's on the phone they fall silent. Morioka grimaces an apology when the handle of the door to the emergency stairwell clanks loudly, but Kame waves it off. "When are you getting home tonight?" he asks, watching the door swing slowly shut behind the two boys.

"It could be a while. The boss wants to catch a train at seven but we think he's dreaming. Nine, maybe. Why?"

"They changed my schedule for the promotional photos this week."

"Oh, for the shoot with Soga Jou?" The name prompts a half-audible comment in the background, but Kame can't put a name to the voice. He knows the colleagues she's sharing the office with, though, has met them at the house on several occasions. They're very nice people.

"Yes, that one. They moved it up to tomorrow morning," he says. "I have to be here at half past five."

"Can you stay at the apartment?" she asks. "You didn't pack a bag."

Kame wonders how she notices these things. He pays attention to what she does, what her schedule is, but he knows he wouldn't notice whether or not she brings a spare set of clothes to work.

The first time he'd gone on location after they moved into the house, three months into their marriage, she'd looked at his general state of disorder and asked if he wanted her help making sure he at least packed a toothbrush, but it's not something they do on a regular basis. The idea of Midori packing his overnight bag for the apartment is one he'd just as soon not have in his head. "I've got enough stuff there."

"Good. So I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Yes." He thinks for a moment but then goes ahead as he'd intended. "Did you make plans for Friday evening?"

"I was talking to Enoki-chan about going out," she says slowly. "Are you going to be home then?"

"Yes." He hesitates; he doesn't want to derail her plans. "I thought I could take you out to dinner, if you want."

"That would be nice." She hesitates too, but then her suggestion sounds genuine. "We could all go together?"

As far as he can recall, Enoki-san is also very nice. It's not a problem. "Sure, let's do that. We can talk it over tomorrow."

She wishes him luck for the photo shoot before they say their goodbyes, and he tucks his phone away and presses down on the clanking door handle himself.

At the bottom of the stairwell, the emergency exit that leads directly to the car park is held ajar by a scruffy black backpack squeezed between the frame and the metal of the door. Morioka and Kobi are having a smoke outside, standing close together under the narrow roof to protect their make-up and hair against the drizzle. The sky is an unpleasant grey, the difference to the fake spring they've been acting in all day disorienting, and Kame stops just long enough that Morioka feels compelled to offer him a cigarette.

Kame shakes his head. "No, thanks." Bringing his bag around, he starts rummaging for his car keys.

"You don't smoke?" Kobi asks, giving Kame an oddly frank look.

"I quit."

Kobi seems to expect something more, but Kame is not sure what.

"I do that a lot, too," Morioka admits with a little grin, and at least he doesn't look like he expects to be lectured. It's easy to forget that there are just four years between them. Then again, when Kame was twenty-one, he'd had three lead performances in major hit films under his belt. He'd already quit smoking, too. It feels like more than four years.

But it reminds him that Morioka volunteered for the early shift just because it seemed to suit Kame, so he says, "I'm looking forward to working with you tomorrow." It's as true as anyone can look forward to a six a.m. photo shoot, but he adds a meaningful nod to get the praise across for sure, and Morioka looks really pleased.

Feeling chilly by now, Kame hurries on his way to the Lexus. The air is so damp that the windows start fogging up the second he slumps back in the leather seat, and he turns on the engine for the heating system before he's even sorted out the water bottle and the GPS. He hasn't driven to the apartment from here before, and he takes a moment to look at the route before he pulls out of his space.

He's just past the security gate, trying to stash his parking pass away without taking his eyes off the wet road, when he sees Fukushima Minoru walking ahead of him on the sidewalk, holding a newspaper over his head. Not a good day for forgetting your umbrella.

Kame pulls up next to him, slow and careful so his wheels don't cause a splash. Fukushima bends down when Kame rolls down the passenger side window.

"Can I give you a lift, Fukushima-san?" he asks, offering a smile.

Fukushima, suffering from wet hair on top of his generally irritable character, looks grudgingly grateful. "Just to the subway would be very good, thank you." He yanks open the door and drops himself into the seat, and then the car shuts out the sound of the rain again. "It's not a day for walking, is it?"

"No, it really isn't," Kame agrees, pulling into the road. Sure, they can talk about the weather. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going home," Fukushima says, before he volunteers, "I live in Nakano."

"I'm going to Uguisudani. I could drop you off at Tsudanuma."

"You live in Uguisudani?" Fukushima asks with some surprise, and looks Kame up and down as if the reason for his poor residential choice has to be evident somewhere on his person.

"My wife and I live in Mitaka," Kame clarifies, focussing on the road. "I have a second apartment for when I have to stay in the city, for work."

"Ah," Fukushima says slowly, but he doesn't seem satisfied yet. "It's a rough neighbourhood, though."

Kame can't quite read the man's tone; it seems half chiding, half impressed that Kame is toughing it out in the residential badlands, but it's annoying either way. Kame knows what the place looks like to outsiders, but it hasn't always looked like that. It was just normal, back when Kame first bought the converted warehouse. The gate and the swipe cards and the cameras are supposed to be about privacy, no more.

Not that he's going to say that. "It's not so rough," he states politely, and adds, "So, Tsudanuma station?" It's too late for the subway stop anyway. The wipers scrape across the windshield with a rubbery noise, no setting really fitting for the light rain.

"Oh, yes." Fukushima laughs, not really embarrassed. "Thank you." He leans back comfortably in the seat. "A very nice car you have here."

Traffic is thickening, and Kame has to concentrate. Grey clouds and grey cars and grey buildings make everything a bit blurry.

"Thank you," he says. The navigation system tells him to take a left and he throws a glance at the projected length of the trip. "I drive a lot. It's good to have something comfortable."

"As well you should. You've worked hard for your success. You should enjoy it." Fukushima has had a moderately successful run as a television actor; recently he seems to specialize in mentor roles and wise supporting characters. It's almost the exact same tone he uses for when he plays the kind and understanding Head Teacher, and Kame is not even sure why he finds his approval so grating, but he does. "It takes the right mindset," Fukushima is carrying on. "You have the discipline for it, even at your young age."

Okay, that might be a reason. At least now he knows where it's going. Kame concentrates very hard on the navigation's instructions and on not thinking of when he has to get up tomorrow. "It's true, I don't have that many years experience yet," he acknowledges. "It's a real honour to work with Nogushi-san."

He adjusts the speed of the wipers again, hopes for the monotonous sound to go away, wonders how Fukushima is going to bring them from Nogushi worship back to Toyoda and her lack of work ethics.

And they're only one week into shooting.

 

### Ginza

"The boss wants to see you in the office," Jun's voice comes over the back of the leather couch where Jin has sprawled out while the place is empty.

Something in Jin curls up annoyingly, but all he says is, "That time of the week again? Get Shota or Danny, it's not my turn."

Jun, leaning over him now, gives him a pitying look. "No doubt he's glad for that. But you need to stop collecting complaints, junior."

The twisty feeling gets worse. But he can't think of anybody who's seemed unhappy with him since the incident with Nakamaru. He's been getting better at this. Trying a little bit harder, too. He can't afford to lose this job.

And it won't do to keep Ootomo waiting, so he sits up and slips silk socks into smart leather shoes – clean, black, shiny – to take the staff elevator behind the lotus display to the main office on the first floor.

Knocks on the door and mutters the requisite politenesses as he enters.

Ootomo is not alone. Rising from the chair in front of his desk as Jin enters is a boy who looks about sixteen, hazel-dyed hair and big eyes and everything about him soft-focus, pretty. Jin is learning about clothes these days and this boy's are worn but elegant, like he found them in a Ginza charity shop, if such a thing existed.

He gives Jin the brightest smile Jin has seen since he started working here, or in the two years before that.

"Jin, this is Yuuya," Ootomo says. They have a choice here whether to tell each other their family names; few do. "He's starting with us today. You can show him around while he waits for proper clothes to be ready for him."

"Please take care of me, Jin-senpai," Yuuya says with a deep bow.

He has to be eighteen. Ootomo has his peculiarities, but he wouldn't take anybody who could get the club into trouble.

Jin smiles back, aware that he can't match the brilliance and also that at twenty-one, he's suddenly feeling old.

"Welcome, Yuuya-san."

The boy looking sixteen going on twelve bows again. "I look forward to working with you."

And then he smiles again, and in his head, Jin already sees the clients eating this up.

*~*~*

"You're really eighteen?" he can't help asking as they walk down the soft-carpeted corridor, back to the elevator.

"Just turned," Yuuya says. "I submitted my application the next day."

Application?

"Ootomo-san called me two days later, made the appointment, and here I am."

Application. Appointment. Jin doesn't normally ask questions because he doesn't like answering questions, but… "You _applied_ to work here?"

Yuuya shrugs as the elevator pings. "It's the best."

True, but it doesn't explain how the boy found out about it in the first place.

Yuuya nods back down the corridor, towards the engraved 'Assistant Manager' sign on Ootomo's closed door. "Interesting interview technique."

Jin can't tell whether it refers to the nature of the interview or Ootomo's laboured performance. "He likes his perks," he says after the elevator door has closed behind them, and Yuuya gives a soft little laugh, seems to think that's fair enough.

"He didn't have a fit that you knew about Johnny's? I mean, the whole point is that it's all hush-hush."

"Oh, I explained. This client mentioned it to me," Yuuya says. "A really rich old guy, children abroad, wife dead, he didn't have long to go, either. He took care of me for a bit. He said this was a great place and he used it when it still mattered but well, he liked them younger, and it didn't matter so much any more. I was fifteen. After he died, I followed it up."

Jin nods. "They won't let you drink alcohol here, though."

"I don't mind. And actually, some—"

"—clients will like it."

"A lot."

"Cherry on top."

They exchange a knowing grin.

"What about you," Yuuya says. They're in the main lounge now, and he's captivated by the glass, the leather and the lights, the marble and the mirrors, the dark cherrywood luxury everywhere, so Jin gets away with a fairly cursory reply.

"Been here six weeks. Year and a half street before that."

"Lucky," Yuuya observes, sounding happy for Jin. And then he moves on and is curious about everything: how many of them, how many clients, how do they get allocated, what about rivalries? Who to watch out for, who's weird and how, whom not to cross, the dos and don'ts of working in a setup like this. "I'm good with clients," Yuuya explains. "I'm not used to having colleagues."

"Ask me anything you like," Jin says, and when he finds himself smiled at gratefully, he gives Yuuya his cell number on impulse. Then the, "Thank you, senpai, I am so glad you are going to help me, thank you so much for your kindness," gets kind of embarrassing. "Stop with the bowing, Yuu-chan," he says, and Yuuya stops instantly and says "Yes, senpai," in a cheerful voice, dark eyes sparkling in his soft face, and for the first time in six weeks, Jin feels like he's actually useful.

*~*~*

They do a quick tour of the kitchen, then Jin shows Yuuya the gym, the washroom, the lockers, and the small tatami room where futons are ready for anybody who gets out of a comfort or rest appointment too late to get home. Next to it is the break room: table, couch, two chairs, television and water heater. "Some of us hang out here if they have long breaks between engagements. If you find somebody playing computer games, that's Junnosuke-san. Just talk to him, he's nice."

The door opens. "Well, Jin, why don't you observe the _niceties_ then and introduce us?" Junno saunters in wearing jeans and a t-shirt, carrying a clothes bag and a holdall which Jin knows contains shoes and electronics. He smiles at Yuuya, who for once doesn't smile back.

Yuuya is staring. When Jin does the introductions he remembers to bow, manages the polite responses, and then he stares some more.

Junno is grinning widely. "I have that effect on people."

He didn't have that effect on Jin, but then Jin missed out on some basic cultural education for this environment. He's caught up since.

"Granmarie," Yuuya says hesitantly. "You are Gran—"

"TA-DAAAA!" Junno says. "Nice to meet you, Yuuya-san. Let's work well together."

"But… your hair?"

Junno is still grinning. "The hair was too conspicuous. If a client took me out for dinner and I was recognized, things could get hairy."

Jin bites his lip. Yuuya laughs and has thereby probably made a friend for life.

"What are you two up to?" Junno strips without further ado and starts to dress up in club-appropriate gear.

"I'm showing Yuu-chan around," Jin says. It just slips out, but when he turns to Yuuya to correct himself the boy is smiling and telling Junno what a help Jin-senpai has been today.

They leave Junno pondering his selection of ties, and Jin shows Yuuya how the lockers work and how to avoid the loud snap of the bolt, essential for harmonious coexistence with the others.

"This is our last stop, though," he tells him then. "We can't do the rooms and we can't go back down, not with clients arriving." He'd lend Yuuya his emergency spare suit, but he's too tall; Junno is even taller. Shota's way too short, Jun unlikely to share out his Versace. Asking Tatsuya is possible, Jin supposes, but…

In the end, they lie in wait for Hina, to catch him before he disappears into his dungeon. Hina's clients are usually pre-booked so he rarely spends time in the main lounge. He's friendly and helpful, and after some tucking and pulling, Yuuya is presentable in dark blue and violet.

By the time they're done, it's almost six and the place is starting to fill up. Tatsuya is around but holding back – he's got a rest engagement booked, like every Tuesday night, and will soon be changing into formalwear for the high-class restaurants his client usually takes him to. They like to impress him; Tatsuya doesn't take just anybody as a regular. Shota is chatting up a CEO who has started dropping in more regularly, usually staying for relaxation, no more. Yamatani is in the chrysanthemum corner with the dark leather seats as usual, dapper in an expensive business suit, but comfortable enough in his retirement that he's given up on ties. He gives Jin a little wave.

"Here's a nice guy," Jin says, and takes Yuuya across. "Owns that big cleaning company all the hospitals use, though he's handed the management over to his son. Comes here almost every day for chat and drink. He's up for relaxation or comfort maybe once during the week, and usually comfort on Saturdays. Ootomo explained the terminology, yes?"

Yuuya smiles. "The basics. It doesn't sound too complicated."

"You've done all the standard stuff before?"

"I've done street since I was twelve, on and off," Yuuya says easily. "There's very little I haven't done."

Jin nods and tries not to think about it much.

"Not that I liked it all," Yuuya adds quickly. "I'm not weird, you know."

His eyes are on Jin, waiting for his reaction. What's weird is having somebody look to you for approval. "Yeah," Jin says, "I get it."

"Ootomo-san said weird stuff is strictly voluntary," Yuuya hazards.

"That's right," Jin reassures him. "We're encouraged to be flexible, but we don't have to do anything extreme."

"Or painful," Yuuya adds a little too persistently.

"Definitely not," Jin says, and it earns him one of those smiles.

 

### Uguisudani

The rain stops just as Kame pulls off the street, Fukushima's comments nagging at him. He circles wide around two blocks of rock that have been broken out of the little stone border for the shrubs on either side of his driveway. Bored youths or a carelessly turning car; Kame has had both happen before.

Leaving the car in the underground garage, he passes the security door into the backyard, and walks up the outside stairs to the second floor. His immediate neighbour – one half of an elderly couple who were Kame's first tenants when the conversion was completed – is on the balcony running along that side of the building, watching what he can see of the traffic over the high fence, having a slow cigarette. They greet each other, but leave it at that. Kame appreciates the couple's utter lack of interest in their rich young landlord.

The paparazzi never found it. They lurk around the house sometimes, but this is secret, safe.

Lunch was a brief affair and he's starting to feel hungry. By the time he got Fukushima out of his car he just wanted to get home, so he put his faith in the freezer and his housekeeping service and didn't stop anywhere to shop.

And it's not their fault, Kame tells himself first thing when he opens the door and sees traces of the rewiring he's having done before he even turns on the light. The wardrobe has been moved away from the wall, close enough to the door to block the tall mirror. At least it's not in the way of getting to the bathroom or toilet.

There's a funny smell, too, but he has no idea how that's related to the renovations. He sure hopes it isn't.

Bending to take off his shoes, he hesitates briefly when he notices the fine layer of work dust on the laminate, but then he just sighs. He told them he was coming in on Friday; if they'd known of his changed schedule, someone would have cleaned, maybe tried to make the open wall less of an eyesore. Can't be helped now.

He walks past the bathroom and drops his bag by the couch. If he looks too much at the ragged wallpaper he's going to get depressed. At least the rest of the apartment looks normal and well kept, and the dust isn't as bad the further he gets from the wall. They must have put sheets on the furniture.

He sits. Thinks of pulling out his laptop and his phone but then doesn't; waits, thinking about taking a shower. At least the bathroom's already done. Wonders about TV. He's been looking forward to the quiet but it's odd now; the place feels unfinished, unready. TV will just be noise.

Things would have been different on Friday, he'd have had food in and the cleaner in and— well, yes. Something to look forward to. He should call and cancel, it's only polite.

He also needs to figure out where the hell the unpleasant smell is coming from.

That takes a bit of investigation; it's not the fridge, thankfully, and even more thankfully it's as stocked on the basics as he remembers from two weeks ago. He'll have a beer after he's showered and changed.

The rubbish bins are empty, too, and it's not coming from the sink either, but then it finally rings a bell and he finds the open box of dry cat food at the side of the kitchen counter, right next to the high sliding window. The cleaner didn't dare put it away or throw it out, apparently, though when he opens the window he notices she has taken in the small plate that Kame left outside. He picks up the box, leaving the window open for fresh air.

Does cat food keep? He's not sure, it's not his cat and he only bought the stuff because he doesn't always have meat leftovers around, but not being sure by itself makes him throw it out. He wouldn't want to eat something that's been sitting somewhere generating smell for two weeks.

After that, he grabs a glass of cold water and settles on the couch again. The place is a mess, and he's going to have to get up at a god-awful hour, and he's wired and shooting is going to be hell the next few weeks, and—

He gets out the computer, inserts the broadband card and waits the moment it takes for the wireless to come on. They're still having trouble getting landlines to the house but for Kame, wireless and cell phone works fine.

He doesn't have the phone number saved anywhere but he types in the web address from memory and gives them his name and the password. Then he puts the laptop onto the coffee table and gets his phone.

He has reception on the line first, but when he says who he is and that it's about a booking, the young man with the polite cultured voice puts him through to Ootomo.

"I have to cancel my appointment this Friday," Kame says after the initial pleasantries, and adds that he doesn't know when he'll next have time.

"Of course, of course," Ootomo says, giving him a few seconds, and he makes up his mind.

"I have to stay in the city tonight. I don't suppose Tatsuya-san would be available on such short notice?"

He's not surprised when Ootomo says no, Tatsuya is unavailable this evening. He's a little disappointed anyway. Would have been nice.

"What about Takuya-san?" he asks after a second's hesitation. He's done this before, it's fine, but when it seems like working down a list he still feels a flush of embarrassment.

"I'm afraid not," Ootomo says, very apologetic and sounding distressed at having to turn Kame down a second time, when it's perfectly obvious that these aren't men who have to sit around waiting for his phone call. "Maybe Jun…"

"No," Kame says, slightly embarrassed by how quick it comes out, but— no. He's wired enough. "I'd be willing to go with someone new," he offers instead.

Ootomo seems pleased and directs him to a few profile pages, all good-looking men, vaguely familiar from his nights at the club, all—

Kame stops.

"The fourth one," he says, "he's…"

"Oh," Ootomo finishes his sentence for him when the pause gets a little long. "He's been with us for a few weeks, and we like to introduce him to our long-term guests. You may…"

Kame has started tuning him out after 'a few weeks' because he would know if he'd seen that man before. And he doesn't remember seeing him, not at the club. He would remember.

He tries to catch up on Ootomo's information because something about the way the man looks into the camera seems different, but then he just says, "That will be fine, thank you. When can I expect him?"

He'll have a bit over an hour to get ready. It will be enough to shower and change and heat up something from the freezer. He leaves his phone on the coffee table and stands. The picture is still on the screen, looking out at him, a soft face in a mass of dark wavy hair which seems to invite touch even now. The mouth isn't bad, either. Probably a very flattering shot, but that's the point, isn't it.

Better get going. Kame folds the laptop shut and grabs his bag, stowing the laptop away in the shelf that half-shields the bed from the dining area and dropping the bag into a corner of the wardrobe, and then he checks if someone remembered to iron his shirts.

 

### Ginza

Yamatani is delighted to meet Yuuya, buys them Nikko beer and plain mineral water. Jin suspects Ootomo will be stocking luxury softdrinks and creating expensive non-alcoholic cocktails soon.

They've started discussing the merits and demerits of strict licensing laws when Ootomo bears down on them, and Jin is annoyed that his first thought is _what did I do wrong now?_

Ootomo bows elaborately to Yamatani, apologizes profusely, and says something about errors in scheduling, Yamatani-sama's valued patience, and Jin.

Jin keeps quiet. He's got no idea what's going on, but saying that tends not to go down well. Yamatani is easygoing as usual; there's a reason Jin likes him better than the rest of his clients. Yamatani would never complain about him.

So Jin ends up apologizing, too, still not sure why, but he's learned you can never go wrong with it.

"Not a problem," Yamatani says, elegantly waving his age-spotted, perfectly manicured hands. "The nice young man and I can chat some more, and we'll have our meeting some other time."

Jin says, "Yes, definitely, thank you very much," while Ootomo is still communicating his regret at interrupting next to him, and by now Jin is really curious.

"It's Kamenashi-sama," Ootomo says under his breath as soon as they have turned away and put a few paces and a potted plant between them and the others.

Jin's first thought is relief, because that can't be a complaint; Kamenashi is Tatsuya's and sometimes Kimura-senpai's, and Jin has never had anything to do with him that he might want to complain _about_.

"He's had to cancel the rest with Tatsuya-san on Friday, something came up," Ootomo is saying. "He wanted him tonight—"

But Tatsuya has rest with somebody else and Kimura doesn't work on Tuesdays.

"He asked for me?" He knows he sounds surprised, but people who afford the likes of Tatsuya on a regular basis don't tend to go for _him_.

Ootomo gives a tight little smile, subtext 'don't fuck this up'. "Maybe he's slumming it. He liked your picture. I told him you are new."

"Okay," Jin says. He's seen Kamenashi maybe twice since he started, from afar, hanging out with Tanaka who is way more interesting – famous rappers just are. Not that Tanaka ever shows any interest in Jin, though Jin thinks it's got nothing to do with his skills. Tanaka doesn't seem to go for the taller escorts. He'll probably try Yuu-chan; but that's okay, he's got a decent reputation. Jin wonders if Yuu-chan likes music.

Kamenashi is famous, too, for something – Johnny's _exists_ for people too famous, important or paranoid to visit less rigidly discreet establishments. Jin vaguely remembers hair dyed some shade of brown. From what he's picked up, Kamenashi is all right and has no special requirements; the fact that he isn't fat and fifty is likely to make things easier. "Comfort or rest?"

"Rest. It's his usual thing."

Even better. Jin doesn't expect to get this lucky. He's never made that much in a single day, never mind a Tuesday.


	2. Chapter 2

He brought out the script after clearing the dishes off the table, and when he's gone over the dialogue for the soccer field scene twice, he checks the clock again. Could be soon now, he thinks, and starts skimming more randomly, stopping at scenes he's not going to be in, the stuff that's less familiar. They could turn this into an interesting movie, if they get their act together.

He's almost emptied his beer, but won't have another before his guest arrives. The blinds are drawn, shutting out curious gazes along with the darkness that has mercifully replaced the grey, and Kame is reading in soft lamplight. He's still warm from the shower under his clean white shirt, and slipping into the mood of the evening, bad schedules and set intrigue fading from his mind and out of tense muscles. Aside from the beer there's Chablis chilling in the fridge, which is what Tatsuya would have. He also checked that he's got a decent Rioja, and quality sake; it is a first appointment with somebody new.

Outside it's getting windy, and he gets up when the blinds start flapping in the breeze, to slide the wide glass front shut. The air seems fresh enough now anyway. He's throwing a glance at his hair in the reflection of the window when the doorbell rings.

Kame studies the security screen for a moment before he presses the speaker button. The style is familiar, the suit elegant but not so that it would raise suspicion. Despite the blueish blur of the CCTV, he recognizes the face he saw on the website. The man is taller; still not tall enough to be gawky, but the way he ducks his head against the wind, you'd think he's afraid of being blown away. Maybe he's worried about his hair.

"Yes?"

"I'm from Kitagawa Financial Services. I have an appointment with Kamenashi-san."

"Go around the left side of the house," Kame says. "I'm on the first floor at the back. You'll see the stairs. Ring again at the door."

"Left, back, stairs, door," comes back through the intercom. "Understood."

So Kame buzzes him in.

He casts a quick final glance over the apartment. It's tidy enough as long as you ignore the open wall, and there's nothing to be done about that now.

The second ring comes sooner than he expected, but when he checks the security camera, everything is in order, and he opens the door.

He's seen the picture, so he doesn't stare, but the real thing is something else.

"Good evening," Kame says, taking in the wide shoulders, the perfect mouth, and eyes that make him flush a little when they meet his, because he must have been staring after all. He bows slightly. "I'm Kamenashi."

He steps back to allow him past the door, and after the answering bow, his guest follows him with a polite, "Good evening."

"Thank you for coming out here on such short notice," Kame says, knowing it's an empty phrase, but he always makes a point of being appreciative.

"Thank you for the invitation," the man replies, not so easily but predictably enough. He bows again. "I'm Jin."

"Please," Kame says, "get comfortable," and at that, Jin steps out of his shoes and up into the apartment. "Did you find it all right?" Kame asks and moves back inside, inviting Jin to follow, until they come to a stop at the first piece of furniture. Jin nods at him over the corner of the dining table.

"Eventually," he says. "I thought I was lost for a bit, but then a taxi driver told me I wasn't, after all." He shrugs and tries a brief smile, apparently waiting for an answer.

"I see," Kame says. It really isn't a common quarter for film stars, he reminds himself. Most people would be surprised.

The ringing of the phone interrupts them.

"Excuse me." The man nods readily. Kame gets his phone from where he left it on the coffee table, putting a few steps between him and his guest, and flips it open. "Kamenashi."

It's Toyoda, and the first thing she does is apologize, first for calling him in the evening and then about the photo shoot.

"Honestly, don't mention it," Kame says when she stops to breathe. He catches Jin's curious glance, fleeting enough that it's not rude, wishes briefly his apartment had a second room, and then is annoyed with himself. These escorts cost as much as they do precisely for reasons of privacy and discretion.

"I don't mind getting up early," he adds, feeling awkward trying to be reassuring while he keeps his eyes on his visitor's profile.

"I shouldn't have complained so much," she says. Jin is getting interested in Kame's interior design choices, but he's welcome to it, it's preferable to him watching Kame's phone call. Toyoda still sounds upset. "We all get tired. I'm sorry I made a fuss. You didn't have to do that."

"You weren't complaining," he tells her. "You always come into work on time, you know your lines…" He also thinks she's entitled to a little more consideration, but he's not sure how to put that. Maybe he could figure it out better if the escort wasn't examining the bare wiring, and the brickwork revealed where the workers had to strip away the wallpaper. He might be expecting grander environments from his customers.

Toyada bridges the silence with a heartfelt thank you. "I… just – I appreciate your support."

Kame makes himself ignore Jin, thinks of work. Thinks of intrigue and malicious scheduling. "Really, it's fine," he says in a low voice, friendly. "I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. Get a good night's sleep."

She thanks him a second time, and apologizes for the interruption before she ends the call. Kame takes a moment to try to put it all out of his mind again and focus on what he'd planned for the evening, though wondering whether his living conditions passed inspection wasn't really part of that either.

He sets the phone to mute and puts it back on the coffee table. "Sorry about that," he says.

"No problem," Jin says easily, eyes lingering on the fine layer of brick dust on the backs of the dining chairs before meeting Kame's.

"I didn't expect to be here tonight, so the cleaner hasn't been in," Kame says, and then he wonders, impatiently, what he'll find to apologize for next.

Jin looks like it all make sense now. "So this place isn't where you live, it's just for— "

"—when I have to stay in town for work." It sounds sharp, he can't believe the escort would come out suggesting—

Maybe he's overreacting.

But the man could stand to be a bit more embarrassed at least. Instead he just nods, a little too slowly for Kame's taste, looks around again, says, "Of course."

And then there is silence again.

Fine. Something else then. After a moment Kame asks, "Would you like a drink?" That should not go wrong.

"A beer would be good, if you have that," Jin says. Kame gets another one for himself, too. Maybe it will help. Get them something like an actual conversation.

"Thanks," Jin says, and Kame nods.

"Ootomo-san recommended you," he offers, because perhaps Jin is just shy, perhaps he needs some reassurance, too, though why it should be up to him to make his escort feel at ease is a question he can't plausibly answer.

"Yeah," Jin says with a little shrug. "I'm new." Whether the apologetic note is intended, Kame can't tell. Jin adds an uncertain smile to the raised shoulders, as if that would make it look more charming, but if he's playing at flirting, he's doing it wrong.

"I haven't seen you at the club before," Kame tries again.

"I've been there for six weeks," Jin explains. "I guess we kept missing each other." And that's the end of that. Jin ducks his head again as if he's one of the club's cute little things barely Kame's height, not a man grown enough and tall enough to just look awkward and suddenly Kame is annoyed, because—

He isn't sure why. Nobody is _forcing_ him to help out the guy who is clearly still acquiring elementary conversational skills. Maybe they should just get to the sex. But that… he doesn't do it like that.

"I guess," he says shortly.

He reminds himself that Jin probably isn't being deliberately difficult. He is a beginner. Ootomo warned him, after all. But gods, Kame was looking forward to a pleasant evening, not to teaching a paid escort the basics of intelligent discourse.

But clearly it's up to him. While he thinks about what to say next, he takes the time to clear the script off the table and put it in the bookcase along with the highlighter he was using.

"So… you're an actor," Jin says into the silence. Kame isn't entirely sure if it's a question or a statement. It's something, though, and by now Kame will take what he can get in terms of small talk.

"Yes," he says. Unfortunately, there's not that much more he can think of in support of Jin's brave efforts that isn't bragging. It doesn't happen often that people don't know who he is.

"Is it a good role?" Jin says, motioning at the shelf – and presumably the script – with his chin.

"I think so," Kame says truthfully. It doesn't stretch him as much as he'd like; he's played the passionate, idealistic type before and the more surprising material is Toyoda's, but here the idealism comes wrapped in a decent plot, and he finds the film's message moving.

But that's hardly something he can say to an escort – this escort.

"It's a positive role," is what he settles for, because they were doing so well on the talking front, "it fits the film, it's very hopeful." The man nods slowly, with a thoughtfulness that Kame doesn't find entirely appropriate. Maybe he said too much already.

"What sort of character is it?"

"A teacher."

"What kind of teacher?"

What is this, an interrogation? Kame reminds himself of taking what he can get and elaborates, "A literature teacher."

"Literature, huh?" Now he's being studied, and he wonders if the next question is going to be, 'what kind of literature'. No, probably not.

"I've seen you somewhere before, though," his guest finally says.

"I've been in a few things." He wonders if he should list them, to help Jin out, or whether that would be bragging too.

"I don't watch much TV," Jin says, and it sounds like an apology. "Or movies. Have you done any sports films? Soccer or something? Maybe… I mean, that would explain where I've seen you, maybe."

"Sports films?" He hasn't.

"Not, I guess," Jin says.

"No. Not."

Jin looks at him, perplexed. It's a pretty look on him. Maybe they should end the conversation part of the evening after all.

"Oh wait, that—" Jin stops.

Kame knows. "The campaign. That campaign I was in about sponsoring sports clubs for children."

Jin nods, a little reluctantly. There's something else in his expression now, something Kame can't place but he doesn't think he likes it much. "They play it during half-time. '… youth of Japan something… '"

He's an actor; the line's not _hard_ and he's said it dozens of times. "Try harder for the youth of Japan." But it's always been a slightly stupid slogan, and it sounds worse than he recalls.

Jin's opinion of it appears low, too, or maybe it's his opinion of Kame, or, going by another one of those badly concealed measuring glances out over the room, he's still hung up on Kame's apparently sordid living arrangements.

Though what right he has to an opinion is debatable. He could try to keep it to himself better. The awkwardness was bad enough, but Kame finds his mood slipping further into irritation. He's not paying for this, and it's been a long day and he's already been patient.

He puts his beer down. "Maybe we should…" He doesn't need to finish the sentence; at least the guy they sent him gets _that_.

He, too, leaves his beer on the table. The spark of concentration that straightens his body might promise a little less difficulty here. "How do you want us to start?"

Kame is no longer entirely sure what he 'wants them to' at all.

But this is his night off, why should he bother about an escort's opinions and lack of finesse; he's primarily paying for sex and for that… for that Jin looks perfectly suitable even now, even while he's almost staring Kame down.

Kame gestures towards the couch. "Let's start over here."

Jin takes his jacket off and Kame is pleased to find that the shoulders are real, not an impression created by clever tailoring. They look good above Jin's narrow hips; they'll feel great under Kame's hands. Jin moves well, too, so well that Kame only starts to walk when Jin is waiting for him by the couch.

Maybe they can do at least this professionally, this once.

He sits down, almost comfortable, and Jin sits next to him, their legs touching. Jin turns towards him but doesn't lean in, holds back. "Do you like to kiss?" he asks courteously.

Kame nods, says, "Yes, that's fine," and Jin half-turns and reaches for him, a gentle touch on Kame's chest and his lips are full and lickable, and maybe this isn't going to be so bad; Kame answers the movement and when their lips touch it's soft, and nice, and he closes his eyes.

It's different from kissing Tatsuya, though he can't say how and it seems familiar, tender and a little bit hesitant, and it should be fine. Jin is appropriately shy about it, testing the waters, a flick of tongue against Kame's upper lip, licking gently when Kame gives.

Fingers in his hair now, stroking lightly past his ear, careful; it's distracting because he has to concentrate on the kiss he seems to know somehow, slow and tentative, the pressure that doesn't come back right when he opens his mouth. A hand on his chest, too, up to his neck, down again, feathery and aimless and he can't track the kiss with the way Jin is playing with him and petting him as if they're fumbling teenagers who are still figuring out what they want and they're not, and he doesn't need _coaxing_.

So he pushes, angles his head and sucks Jin's tongue into his mouth and that's at least something, something that's not floating and weird and it should be better, he thinks it should be better until Jin shifts, sits up taller and leans in, his hand sliding up to Kame's shoulder and the touch on his head becomes forceful, pulling him in and under and he turns his head away but Jin just moves to the side of his face and down to his neck, bungling touch just hot enough for Kame's skin to react with an unwelcome tingle.

He has to lean back to put a stop to it.

But Jin is looking at him, flushed and questioning, and the last thing he wants is more discussion, so he just shifts and moves back in, touching Jin's darkened mouth once with his fingers before cupping the side of his face. He's in charge of the kiss now and he turns it serious, deeper, pushing back Jin's tongue and taking possession, and that works, the way Jin is leaning into his touch works, would work even better if Jin weren't so much taller and if there wasn't– Jin's hand pushing at his shirt, two buttons undone and his hand moving inside, on his skin and Kame stops him, at once, because no, not yet, not like this.

Jin flinches and his eyes are wide, startled, going from Kame's face to his wrist caught in Kame's hand, and back.

Like _this_ , Kame thinks out of nowhere.

And he's getting hard; finally. This may yet work.

He holds Jin's eyes and tugs at his wrist, spreading his legs at the same time, undoing button and zip on his trousers with the other hand. It doesn't get plainer than this. And if he holds on to Jin's wrist slightly longer, that's because they've had a few misunderstandings already, and he wants to make sure there isn't one now.

Jin gets it, though; gets on the floor, quite gracefully, and Jin kneeling in front of him is much, much better than Jin looking down on him. So good that he takes a moment just to appreciate the picture, the warm reality of that body close and waiting, and whatever else there is flickering at the back of his mind about Jin's eyes on him that he can't quite place becomes secondary.

So he nods, helps Jin deal with the underpants, and when Jin licks his lips, he suddenly has to take a deep breath. He's ready for this.

He continues to watch, enjoying himself at last, as Jin bows his head, long dark fringe covering his eyes, the tips brushing lightly against Kame's cock…

…and then that lick of warmth across the tip, full of promise, slick and sure, and behind the curtain of hair he catches glimpses of Jin's tongue moving over sensitized skin. He feels himself sink more heavily against the back of the couch, spreads his legs further… and Jin complies, goes down, down, mouth closing around him, tight warmth everywhere. Pulling off, coming back. Again. Again.

When Jin's hands reach for his hips, Kame bats them away. He doesn't want instructions, he just wants _this_ , now. Jin gets the message – good – and gets back to the sucking. Kame keeps watching – the view seems to be the best thing about this assignation and he's not going to miss any of it, and he starts to brush Jin's hair out of his face, to see more of his downcast eyes under his high forehead but somehow the line of concentration there is distracting and he thinks better of it. Let Jin hide his eyes if he wants to.

The mouth around his cock is pleasurable enough, but somehow it's not going anywhere, the rhythm is slow maybe, or fast, or simply off. They can't even get a blow job right.

Jin must have heard his badly suppressed sigh of impatience and he stops, looks up, lips parted and red. But Kame doesn't want to talk, Kame has no answers either, so he pushes Jin's head down again, keeps his hand in the thick hair as heat closes in again around his cock, and maybe… he jerks his hips up; yes, this can work, this feels… feels good, here's a rhythm, they can do this harder, just a bit, and Jin shifts under his hand and it's good, and very good and good and _better_ , and his hips buck and his hands tighten in Jin's hair, hold him down and thrust up, up again and this is wrong, he doesn't do this, he doesn't like it like this, he pulls his hands away.

He never does this with Tatsuya.

Jin stops briefly, but then he continues without looking up; Kame approves. He forgets other escorts, forgets _working_ for this to work, just wants to let this happen. It continues, warm and wet… and not quite right. Just not right. He doesn't know what it is, but the speed is off, the rhythm is off, he hasn't had such an unprofessional blow job in years.

He doesn't know what to do about it. He thinks he can feel himself losing interest in a serious fashion…

…and apparently his escort can feel it, too, because he stops, pulls off and lifts his head and for a moment he looks like he's been there before or like he knows what Kame is thinking or _something_ , like he's going to say—

"Is there anything else I should do?"

Not looking at him like that would be a start, Kame thinks, embarrassed and frustrated and he snaps, "Try harder?"

Because it's not him, he knows it's not him and what's he supposed to do with a whore who can't even give a blow job properly?

Jin's head goes down again, a breath like _he's_ the one who should be impatient and then he catches "right, for the youth of Japan," just before Jin's mouth closes around him again, and _what_ , who the _hell_ does he think—

Kame draws in a shaky breath, hands in front of him where they caught those shoulders and the escort is staring up at him from a short distance back, sprawling from the shove. Kame stands, is half zipped up while the guy is still recovering and the first thing Kame does then is move away and get himself a glass of water because he'd rather not say anything or do anything while he's this furious.

When he turns again, the man has stood up but he's in the same place, standing very still, watching him. Watching him as though Kame were the one not sticking to his side of the deal here.

He finishes half of the glass – three careful gulps, three times he takes the glass down and there's that weird look waiting for him, assessing, almost accusing. This isn't what he had in mind, but if the guy thinks he can just wait him out, wait him out and then walk out as if he didn't come here with a job to do —

"Fine," he says, mouth dry despite the water, his hand still hot around the glass. "If you're having such trouble, I have a better idea."

He sees the man blink, sees him _wonder,_ those eyes narrowing, not so bold now, and Kame adds quite calmly, "Bed's over there."

He puts down the glass. Watches the escort move at last, past the armchair to the foot of the bed, where he stops. Kame waits.

"Would you like me to get undressed first?" There's still attitude, right there in the formulaic politeness of the question.

"Go right ahead," Kame says, and leans back against the kitchen counter to watch the show.

The tie comes loose with a smooth gesture; it could be quite appealing if the man was at all trying, he's hot enough under the wary glances in Kame's direction and the painstaking way of undoing his cufflinks. Kame watches the fussing until the man has reached the last buttons on his shirt before he decides he's at the end of his patience.

Jin stops with his hands just below the collar when he notices Kame moving. He drops them slowly, uncertainly.

Kame stops just out of arm's reach, couch and armchair at his back. "Go on," he nods. "Take it off."

Jin does; stands there for a moment holding the shirt, not knowing what to do, then passes it to Kame's outstretched hand.

Kame turns to drape it conscientiously over the arm of the chair.

He has a real look then. Takes a slow step, takes a bit more time to take it all in. Those shoulders looking just as good naked; dark nipples an appealing contrast to pale smooth skin, and it feels warm under his palm; Jin only shivers a little.

He skims his hand up to Jin's neck, lazy enough to catch Jin's controlled intake of breath, sees him swallow, and when the backs of his fingers stroke along the smooth line of Jin's jaw with soft suggestion Jin hesitates, thinks, but then he tilts his head. Kame steps closer, he wants to now. Jin is warmer there in the curve of his neck, even against Kame's lips; first touch and Jin obediently bends his head back further, letting him, and when Kame presses some tongue against the hot skin there's a little gasp that goes straight to his cock.

But it's— not a bad angle, no, he shifts and gives it a bit of a suck and he can feel it echo in Jin's body— but he has to tip his head up and stretch just enough that he thinks he'd rather not. Well, he can change that; with his hand firm on Jin's neck and a nudge as he turns them both, some pressure on Jin's shoulder to remind him what his job is.

It takes no more than that to end up just like he wants them for now, with Jin sitting on the foot of the bed, looking up at him.

Straining a bit to do so, because Kame steps in close between Jin's legs. He pushes back the fringe from the dark eyes again, his thumb tracing a frown line that isn't there and it's not quite right either, but the hair still feels nice and thick under his fingers and nicer still when he tightens his grip, and there's a startled blink and a bit of resistance when Kame pulls his head back; that looks good on him, too.

Jin lowers his eyes, just a blink, and his lips part as if to say he's ready and that's not what Kame is going for but it's attractive anyway, and he leans forward, tumbles them over, catching them on one arm, Jin held between gravity and Kame's hand in his hair, and there's none of that odd feeling from earlier when he bends down and presses his mouth hard against Jin's.

Then Kame lets him down, has to catch his breath for a moment but so does Jin, who's staring up at him with wet lips and confused eyes.

Kame can help him out there. He lifts his chin meaningfully; Jin struggles a bit with Kame hovering over him but he scrambles back on the bed, and is looking quite fetching, hair a mess, stomach dipping with every nervous breath, when Kame climbs on top of him.

So. He likes this better anyway. He books rests because he likes the bed and fucking and _contact_ , and he _likes_ it when he leans forward and runs his hand from the faint line of hair on Jin's stomach all the way up to his face, stretching out over Jin and here's some friction for his cock and that mouth opening for his tongue and that's what he wants, right there.

Nothing weird now, just wet and soft sensation and when he's done there he puts his mouth to the neck again because that worked too. Sucks harder this time, some teeth, and there's a small twist from the body under him, just right, and Kame grinds his hips hard in answer. Yes.

He lets go of the hair and there's a delicious little shudder when he brushes his fingertips down the naked side, laying his palm flat on the warm stomach. It's easy, with his leg across Jin's thighs, rocking himself against a convenient hipbone, and this, this works well with the pretty skin under his hand and the nipples that tighten when he gives them a lick just to see. And the view is superb, the subtle sheen of sweat, and it's not just his own breathing he hears, coming hot and faster and _good_ when— Jin's hand is brushing up, a vague pressure on the small of his back that he can do without.

He moves his own hand down, pushing that arm back with an uncomfortable twist and he's lost the flow for a moment, but a firm grip on Jin's hip does it, a little shove and he gets it back, and when he's ready he pushes down harder, picks up the pace.

He feels a hardness under his hip and restrained little movements against him and that's fine, that's how it should be, he pushes back sharply and faster and drags his thumb over one nipple, his mouth on hot skin, and he's got it now, knows where they're going, slides his hand down, dips his fingers past the waistband of Jin's trousers, so good when Jin sucks in a breath and lets him but then he wants it off, all of it, this is going to be good too, and he's got the belt unbuckled when there's a sliding sensation at his back and at his sides and a brush of cool air on his skin before he even realizes and that's _not_ , that's not what he _wants_ , and _fuck_ —

—and he's got enough of this, he swings his leg over on the other side and sits up, and catches those hands and then he stops, fixes the man underneath him with a glance because he needs him to get the message here, he doesn't need all this interference from—

He seems to get it.

The tension fades, and he doesn't resist when Kame takes both of his wrists in one hand and leans over him, pushing them above his head and into the pillow.

He doesn't like it much, but Kame does, and right now he likes the look that goes with not liking it, those brown eyes wide and wary, a guarded expression framed by soft dark hair.

Likes it a lot.

Enough that he's ready to move on to other things, and he presses down once on those hands, sharply, makes himself clear, before he eases up.

The hands stay in place. "Better," he says softly, and waits, and Jin keeps his wrists crossed and his mouth shut, and Kame nods.

He slowly moves down, a light brush of fingers over Jin's forehead and down his cheek, his neck, and Jin stiffens, none of the previous lovely compliance and Kame lingers, fingertips circling on tender skin, until he gives in at last.

Further down then, flat palms on collarbones and chest and Jin holds still, breathes – Kame checks – evenly, and then Kame's eyes fly up to Jin's hands because there was— no, he just flexed his fingers but it's enough, it's too much, Kame was _clear_ and why should he have to _worry_ about this, what more does he have to do to make the man follow simple directions?

He stares him down for long seconds, until nothing is moving at all, only the rise and fall of Jin's chest, and a nervous blink, once. "You're nice like this," he mentions.

Nice… and open and _beautiful_ , and finally still, letting Kame focus; ready for what Kame wants and letting him have it, and Kame is ready too, and maybe—

Yes.

Kame moves down, randomly touching – beautiful, good like this – and he settles on Jin's thighs. He pulls the belt through the loops of Jin's trousers easily, is pleased when Jin lifts up a little, helping. The belt still in his hand, he brushes the skin above the waistband, makes Jin shiver again, and yes, _perfect_ like this, and he stretches upward and leans over Jin, who swallows hard and tries not to hold his breath when Kame presses one hand down on his wrists again. Kame feels the startled look run through him hot and sharp, and his voice goes rough. "Let's keep you like this."

He lifts Jin's wrists and he's got the belt right there, and Jin's eyes go wide with a flash of _something_ that Kame doesn't mind at all but the next thing he feels is a blow against his shoulder and he's toppling, a sharp pain in his wrist as he catches the wall and his knees hit the ground.

The escort is half a room away, backed up against the dining table, staring at Kame where he landed in the gap between the wall and the bed.

First thing Kame does is get up. Next thing, he takes a breath to speak, but the man is quicker or in more of a hurry.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I don't do that."

What, Kame thinks, do _what_? They were going to have sex. That's his _job_ , that's what this guy gets paid for, a _lot_ , and it's also his job to be _accommodating_ about it.

He's standing now, but there's no point going near the guy again. "Anything else you don't do?" he enquires, because he's curious. "Do you fuck?"

What was Ootomo thinking of? New, fine. But… incompetent?

"I'm sorry," the escort repeats doggedly, edging towards the chair, snatching off his shirt and backing away again. Kame lets him. "I think you should make an appointment with someone else."

Kame gives him a long, even look. "Do you."

The man drops his eyes, and he's managed to get his arms into his shirt and now he's trying, also incompetently, to button it up.

Kame walks around the bed and leans against the arm of the couch, watching the clumsy fumbling, which gets clumsier with every furtive look the escort sends him from under his thick eyelashes.

Not just that, the buttons are misaligned. Kame thinks he may be beginning to find this funny.

Only not.

"Watch those buttons," he says. "I can't have someone leave my place looking like they just failed to have sex."

The escort – _escort_! – freezes, glances down his front, then starts undoing the buttons again tortuously. Kame wanders to the bar, giving him a wide berth, and has a drink.

Finally, everything is in order, and that means the man has to look up from his fiddling and at Kame again. By then, Kame doesn't even care about the trapped, defiant look any more. He just wants his own space back.

"Goodbye," he says, opening the door and standing back from it because gods, we don't want to frighten the paid escort.

The man takes a deep breath and walks past him very straight, very tense, and then he's gone at last.

Kame throws out the barely touched beer; then he sits down to finish his own, willing his heart to slow down. Damn. He's going to get up at four in the morning and he's more on edge now than he was before this guy showed up all opinionated and weird, and it's not like _he_ will walk out on his job because he doesn't get to pick just how to do it.

He fingers the beer bottle, feels a faint ache in his wrist. He's restless, his skin all prickly and wrong, and maybe he should go for a run; but looking out, he sees the rain has started again. He opens the windows again anyway, cool air in his face; but still he feels a flush every time he thinks of that look on— this _guy_ and this is ridiculous.

He'll have to call the club tomorrow. He's not paying for _this_.


	3. Chapter 3

### Wednesday 03 September

The train is due in three minutes and Jin snaps his gum, listening to the sound of the escalator drone through the station, sharp menthol stinging cold on his lips.

There's a chill in the air, the day more autumn than late summer, and he didn't dry his hair.

The tiny old lady to his left, pausing on her crutches, stares at him from under huge glasses, so thick she might just not be able to see him, but he shuts his mouth anyway and stops chewing until she's hobbled away, her green plastic backpack disappearing behind a vending machine.

The suit doesn't give him away but it stands out regardless, _he_ feels he stands out riding the train at two in the afternoon with mothers and toddlers and pensioners, and he feels it more on the way back from an appointment even when he's showered, even when the appointment went well.

He even got out half an hour early today.

Karube's all right; banker in his fifties, rich enough to make a booking every week but not so well-connected he'd pass as a club member. He was Jin's first regular, one of his first outside appointments three weeks in that turned into this recurrent Wednesday gig.

Jin was glad. It's good to have regulars, a relief just to know what he's in for, and a day when he doesn't have to worry about chatting people up at the club. And Karube's all right. Uses some styling product that Jin hates the smell of but he's got good hygiene, gets it up fast; Jin isn't keen on the idiotic dirty talk but it's common enough and at least the guy is straightforward about what he wants, gives him _cues_. Means them.

He stops tapping his foot.

One more train goes by, and the swoosh of air as it pulls out is cold on his head. He'll shower again at the club, do his hair there before he changes into a fresh shirt. He'd never occupy a client's bathroom for the fifteen minutes it takes him to get the style right, and the hair is important. They were very particular about the cut when they first cleaned him up.

He just washed it at the hotel because of that weird product; Jin didn't have to do much this week, doesn't get that sweaty from holding still, and the guy's not gross. Jin knows gross and that's another thing that's good about the club, most clients are like Karube, well-groomed and neat and socially skilled.

Not that that has to mean much. Not that people can't be crazy bastards anyway.

His train arrives, finally, and he finds himself a spot to stand, ignoring the empty seats. He doesn't lean, though, mindful of his suit. He's going to be presentable.

He doesn't have to go to the club on Wednesdays. He's got the appointment with Karube and they don't require him to come in after that. Sometimes he doesn't want to, feels like he needs a breather, takes the afternoon as a lead-in to his day off; sometimes he goes in because it's a work day anyway and it's not like he can't use the money.

He has a feeling he ought to go in today whether he wants to or not.

Next stop is busy, shoppers and a bunch of kids that look like they should be in school barging in. Jin waits until the commotion has died down and he still has his little corner, then finally gets his phone out of the discreet satchel that could almost pass as a briefcase. The phone is off during engagements, naturally, and there are no check-up calls after established clients. He turns it on now, starts tapping his foot again while it connects. No messages.

Nobody called him last night, either. Like nobody expected— well, nobody did expect, presumably. Hopefully. Jin thought about calling it in, a shrill thought on his march to the subway because it's the rule to report appointments gone wrong, they told him that. He even did it before, all by the book, when Nakamaru just kept talking and talking upstairs in the room and didn't know what he wanted, and Jin didn't know what he wanted either, and the man is so awkward that if Jin had just kept his mouth shut Ootomo might never have shouted about incompetent ungrateful escorts not being worth their keep when they can't even get the client to have the sex he came for.

But this one… he just couldn't talk about it, didn't know what to say. Still didn't when he was in his apartment, the one the club gave him before he even earned enough to pay the rent. When he was showered and changed and warm, and still didn't have a clue what the fuck had even happened back there.

And then he needed to stop thinking about it, because he needed to stop the fucking memory replay, because he had to be able to sleep, because he had to be able to work the next day.

He's tried not think about it all morning, since the last thing he needed was to meet a client with that going round his head, but eventually he starts counting down the stops, and once he's out of the station and walking, he lets it run, a bit. How it started. What they did. What he did. And Kamenashi, and his heart starts racing when he gets to that moment, the pressure on his wrists and that _look_ , when he realized—

He takes a deep breath and starts over. If he has to explain himself, he's not going to be thrown by Ootomo's first question.

He goes in through the staff entrance, the corridor leading him past the kitchen, still quiet at this time of day. It goes with the restaurant that gives the official entrance a second, more respectable purpose but also serves the club and the rooms. And sometimes, unofficially, Jin.

The club is still closed, and when he gets to the fire escape staircases, he can hear faint noises of the vacuum cleaner and the bartender refilling stock.

Nobody's there to see him on the first floor. He can get properly changed before he has to talk to anyone. In the break room Danny, who has a morning appointment every Wednesday and doesn't go home after, is trying to nap on the couch in sweatpants and one of his washed-out UCLA t-shirts. His eyes open sleepily when Jin sneaks into the room.

"Sorry," Jin says, keeping his voice low. "I'll be gone in a minute, just getting my stuff."

"You're in early," Danny says at a normal volume, squirming up to sit against the arm of the couch and pushing brown curls out of his face. "No break this week?"

"No." Jin hangs the jacket up in his locker and grabs a towel. "Thought I might as well."

"Everything went okay?"

Jin stops short, turns without appearing panicked, word can't have got around that fast—

But Danny doesn't seem suggestive, just friendly and a bit more awake.

"Yeah, you know. The usual," Jin says, slinging the towel over his shoulder, almost calm. "So what's new?"

Danny sighs. "He wants to see you. He said to tell you. I said I was going to sleep." Danny's blue eyes meet Jin's meaningfully, and Jin nods.

"Thanks," he says, tempted briefly by the offer. But it won't help him. Too much to hope Kamenashi wouldn't make a big stink for Jin. Just like Nakai with his stupid tantrum.

Danny raises one shoulder. "Maybe better to get it over with, though."

"Yeah," Jin says. "Guess I'll do that then." No time like the present to find out if you still have a place to live.

This one was different, though. This one wasn't his fault.

Danny looks at where he's fiddling with the towel. "You look okay. He should be in."

"Thanks," Jin says again, running a hand through his disorderly hair, wiping off the dampness on his trousers. He'd feel better looking his best, like he can be a proper asset to the club – but Ootomo picked him up when he hadn't washed his clothes in two weeks and still thought he had potential. It's not the state of Jin's suits that's the problem.

He knocks on the door – second time in two days, a new personal record – and is called in after a moment.

Ootomo is in front of the computer, in jeans and a hideous print shirt. When Jin steps inside, he sets down his coffee mug with exaggerated deliberation, and leans back. Jin has seen that look on his face before and it's not good.

He knew that, though, he reminds himself as he stops a meter from the desk and briefly wonders what to do with his hands, before hiding them behind his back.

"Jin," Ootomo greets him with a biting friendliness. "How was your appointment?"

And Jin can't even say how much he _hates_ that. But getting pissed off isn't going to do him any good. So he stands and sweats like Ootomo wants him to until Ootomo seems satisfied enough to reveal, "With Karube-sama. You had an appointment at noon? I assume you went?"

"Yes, I did," Jin nods, biting back anything more emphatic. "It went well."

"Good, good." Ootomo adds fake-pleased to fake-friendly, and by now Jin just wants them to get to fucking Kamenashi and maybe he should— "I'm glad to hear you're not making it a habit to walk out on our clients."

Well, there they are. "I don't."

"Oh, good," Ootomo repeats. "Because Kamenashi-sama called Konoe-san at ten this morning and asked for a refund. Apparently, the rest never took place."

He called the _manager_? That's worse than Jin had expected.

"Needless to say, Konoe-san asked me for an explanation. Which I was unable to give him. It was quite troublesome."

"I'm sorry," Jin says, bows a little for good measure. "We didn't get very far." He's learned that management doesn't like to hear clients criticized. "We didn't seem compatible."

Ootomo nods slowly. "So I gather. I should remind you, though, that it is part of your job to _make_ yourself 'compatible'."

"I tried," Jin objects. "I asked him— I asked him what he wanted—" He stops, reminds himself it's Ootomo; Ootomo who's pissed off and who'll kick him to the curb whenever he wants to, he's got people _applying_ for this gig, people who don't get him complaints. When he goes on, he makes sure he sounds totally professional. "We— I—" Damn, he practiced this one. "The meeting ended prematurely because Kamenashi-san had requirements that fell outside of the agreement."

"I see," Ootomo says. "What was the problem?"

God, what _wasn't_ a problem. What isn't a problem with a guy who— how are you supposed to make yourself compatible to crazy mood swings and weird staring and prompts that— But that doesn't matter, he could have handled all that, he'd _been_ handling it, what matters is—

"He wanted to tie me up."

At least Ootomo gives that some serious consideration. Kink costs extra, and they have specialized personnel for it. "How did he want to tie you up? Did he have some sort of dungeon setup? SM gear?"

"No," Jin says. "He wanted to use my belt."

A brief pause, then Ootomo nods again, slowly. Jin doesn't find it reassuring. "And?"

"And what?"

"And… anything else?" When Jin just stares, Ootomo turns up his eyes and elaborates. "Anything else he asked you to do?"

Something is not going right here, Jin can feel something slipping and he doesn't like it at all. "I don't do further services," he says. "We don't have to. You said so yourself."

"So that was it? Nothing… painful or dangerous, nothing that would _actually_ fall outside of the agreement?"

"He tried to tie me up." And how the hell it's not dangerous to let some scary asshole tie you to a bed, he doesn't know, but that's probably also something he'd better not say just now.

Ootomo's mouth goes tight. "Let me put it plain for you," he says, fixing Jin with a patronizing look that Jin would find infuriating if he were less afraid of being fired and having no place to go, of being on the street again. "You go to a rest or a comfort, you have an agreement to provide certain services. It doesn't matter whether you do so lying down or standing up, in the shower or tied to the bed. And if somebody like Kamenashi wants to play around a bit, you let him."

"Kamenashi—" _Play around_. How does it not matter whether you're— no. Later. Not here.

"Kamenashi-sama has been with us for two and a half years now and there has never been even a hint of a complaint about him."

If Tatsuya and Kimura-senpai put up with Kamenashi's creepy shit uncomplainingly, they're sure earning every yen of their twenty per cent luxury premium.

But he says nothing, waits. He's been doing better. The thing with Nakai was right at the start and even Ootomo said he could be difficult. People have been pleased with him. He doesn't think of the money he's saved and how little it still is.

"This isn't the streets," Ootomo says as if he's been reading Jin's mind, "and you cannot treat a client like a random nobody who slipped you a couple of thousand yen, and who may not be safe. Our customers are carefully screened, and they pay a lot for an engagement."

Jin bows again, wordlessly, puts up with the condescension. He can't lose this job. He needs this job, this one right here, to get _out_ of the job.

"So you better be careful," Ootomo says, none of the fake friendliness in his voice anymore. This is hard warning. "I don't need you walking around alienating our best clients. Konoe-san managed to talk Kamenashi-sama down and he's getting his money back, and maybe Tatsuya-san can clean up your mess the next time. I'll let you know if you're going to apologize to him or if you'd better just stay out of his way the next time he's at the club."

It's a warning, and he's so relieved it's pathetic.

Ootomo is looking at him expectantly.

"Thank you for your advice," he manages after a moment, glad he remembers the appropriate words. "I will remember it. I'm sorry for causing you such trouble."

It seems he is looking appropriately chastised and intimidated, because finally Ootomo nods as if satisfied. "If that is completely clear," he says, "let us chalk Kamenashi-sama up to experience for you, part of your training. I expect you to know better next time."

"Thank you," Jin says, bowing some more, "Thank you very much."

Ootomo smiles, benevolently. "I realize that you need to get ready for downstairs, but perhaps you can spare me another five minutes. It _has_ been a stressful morning."

Whatever, Jin thinks, nods, makes himself look willing. "Of course."

Ootomo comes around the desk and the zipper goes down; Jin drops to his knees and runs his tongue over his lips.

 

### Thursday 04 September

The third take of Fukushima's monologue is coming over from the set that is the head teacher's office, the rest of the cast waiting and keeping quiet behind the tech, ready for the next scene. Matsura's takes for today are finished, one with Kame and one with Morioka, but she has stated her intention to learn from her respected seniors and is now busy giggling with Fukushima and waiting for words of wisdom from Iijima, pointedly ignoring Toyoda for all to see.

Kame's got a bench to himself where he is sitting with the script on his knees, refreshing his memory. He caps his water and sets it down next to him.

It's Thursday, and Toyoda is still apologizing to him. This morning she brought him some home-made plum pickle for which he had to be suitably grateful, and she's hovering around him to make sure he has all the coffee and water he needs as if she were a very nervous personal assistant, and he doesn't know how to get her to stop.

He's denied that his state of exhaustion yesterday had anything to do with the four a.m. start, and that was true, though at some point he started finding 'I slept badly' as his politic summary of 'I didn't sleep at all except for half an hour filled with weird dreams about things I stopped thinking about long ago' vaguely hilarious. Still, as the day dragged on and the make-up artist took more and more time over him, slapped on more and more layers to hide the signs of Kame's all-nighter, Toyoda clearly decided that she was the one to blame and she's sticking by that with a tenacity she doesn't have the energy for.

It makes her even more nervous, and it's incredibly counterproductive. Kame wants to shake her when he doesn't want to sit her down in a corner and give her hot chocolate and a cuddly toy.

"Hormones," was Midori's verdict over a late dinner last night, when he'd finally made it home and gave her a quick, censored and, he fears, rather whiny account of his two days in the city center. "They mess you up, she can't help it."

Kame knows that. But looking over at Toyoda now, at the fixed bright smile she hopes will carry her through and her rather desperate politeness towards a haughty Fukushima and a sceptical Iijima, he worries. He wants her to pull this off, but, well, as for getting what he wants…

Iijima calls for a cut, then announces they're good for this scene. It will take a few minutes to adjust the lighting for what's up next. He waves Toyoda over for instructions, and she puts on a brave face.

At least things have been going reasonably well today. Kame is focussed. The weather has eased up and Morioka and the boys got the soccer field scene finished. Kame's character's appearance at the end of it and his first grudgingly civil exchange with Morioka's character was finished in a single take – Morioka is good, very good, and somehow their interaction in front of the camera has just fallen into place.

It's been going so well that Iijima decided to let Morioka read for a revelatory exchange that is originally between Kame's character and Nogushi's, and he's currently trying to learn those lines on the bench at the far end of the studio while the boys are enthusiastically rehearsing a fight scene next to him.

And as for the things that could still stand improvement, some sleep and a lack of distracting images flashing through his tired mind at inopportune moments apparently make all the difference. Kame nods politely at Fukushima as he's coming off the set, smiling down at Kame like an approving uncle before he stops a random assistant for some water.

A few hours into the neverending nightmare that was yesterday's filming, Fukushima had commented mirthfully that he felt a little less like an old man when even a youngster like Kamenashi-san wasn't immune to the effects of a four a.m. rise. Kame had been too sleep-deprived to come up with an answer. He'd also been too tired to deflect any of the jabs at Toyoda, from predictable corners, which had rounded off his day in a congenial working environment.

But the make-up artist did her job competently and with great patience, and he trusts Soga Jou to have done the very best he could with what Kame had to offer after a night of tossing and turning, and it will be fine. Kame did his job and he did it properly, remembered every single line and didn't need any more takes than usual, and he'll get over the feeling that he appeared weaker than he should have as the star of the show. Everything will be fine.

As if to confirm it, Iijima, who has abandoned Toyoda to take a phone call, flips his cell shut and turns toward them with an expansive gesture, declaring, "Good news, folks!"

The random conversations die down; Kame tries to guess the level of good from Iijima's expression, then exchanges a glance with Morioka, who's been doing the same.

"They can close off Katsuta train station for us on Monday night between seven and ten. We can get two trains coming through, which will give us a second chance if something goes wrong, and we'll have the rest of the time to get close-ups on location."

There's some cheering, and Kame supposes it's good news, because rumours that they might not get the location at all and would have to make do with composites have been circulating since before shooting even started. He notices relief on Toyoda's face that the good news doesn't involve changes to her schedule; she isn't in that scene.

Kame is… and it means he'll be spending Monday night in town. He won't start before eleven on Tuesday.

He can call Ootomo.

With the thought of the name comes the image of the man Ootomo sent him, which is wrong, he doesn't want to think about that, about awkwardness and inappropriate opinions, judging him and mocking his work, hell, he was done with that years ago and he doesn't need the anger stirring, or the memory of that body that wasn't even naked and still fucking  _hot_ under him— no. He can think more constructively than that.

So he does, and his mood improves. He breezes through the rest of the afternoon filming, manages to make Toyoda relax enough to produce a real smile during their one-on-one coda to the head teacher scene, and makes Iijima's day by hitting the screen test for the scene with Morioka instead of Nogushi out of the park.

Then he's done for the day, and says the usual goodbyes and thank yous, drives the car out of the compound and around a few corners and then he stops to turn his cell back on.

The first thing it does is beep gently but persistently and flash the message  _Don't forget!_  at him, and he looks at it and feels a little bad again. Has it really been three weeks already?

He knows it happens easily enough – Midori has a busy schedule, too, and they rarely have much quiet, relaxing time together; and it's not like she has been complaining, or that he has ever turned her down. But he keeps promising himself he will do better, he won't leave it until he gets a reminder again.

Well, there it is, and perhaps… yes, he'll stop at Hévin's and take some of those chocolates home for her after shooting finishes, she likes those, particularly the ones with the cherry filling. And maybe after the night out with Enoki-san they can put on some candles and finish off with a private glass of champagne, and maybe one thing will lead to another if only he tries a little. It has worked like that before. And then he'll try not to leave it so long again.

He decides to feel neither weird nor sad about the fact that normally he'd have been seeing Tatsuya on Friday night; this has happened before, too. And he can make an appointment now. He ignores the feeling of guilt when he okays the reminder and flips to the call history where he forgot – careless but for the best, in this case – to delete the club's number after calling for his refund yesterday, a rushed exchange between having his make-up retouched and getting his hair re-arranged after the photoshoot.

The phone buzzes in his hand, startling him briefly. His agent's number, and he presses the button to send it to voice mail. He'll call her back after speaking to Ootomo.

Ootomo sounds relieved to hear from him again, even though Kame already told the manager that Tuesday's incident hasn't prejudiced him against the club in general.

"Kamenashi-sama," he gushes, "what a pleasure, thank you so much for calling. I was hoping you would because I wanted to let you know that I have spoken to the escort in question."

"I… see," Kame says. "That was really not necessary."

Or particularly welcome. He can imagine what the escort had to say about him. Probably painted him as some sort of weirdo. But he can't stop people talking, he knows that, and it makes sense for the club to enquire into problems, even imaginary ones. They probably have some sort of policy, they have a policy for everything.

It makes him uneasy again, anyway. He's thought it through from all angles – he had enough time on Tuesday night to do that despite the fury and frustration, despite getting helplessly turned on whenever he thought of the escort's mouth opening for him, of how he'd tried to control his breathing when Kame had touched him. Time to wonder whether maybe he did cross a line, whether the escort might just, maybe, have had a point.

But there's a policy there, too, and he knows the rules. Yes, this was new territory, unexpected territory, but he knows the rules. He thinks. He's sure… most of the time he's sure. And then he wonders again, and he wonders now, and he doesn't want to think about it, wishes he didn't have to, but it's best to know, especially if it turns out that he owes that guy – that guy who  _stared_  at him, startled and shocked as if he'd grown a second head – an apology.

"But since you have discussed it," he says to Ootomo, running his finger along an almost invisible seam at the side of his seat, "I'd just like to… I wonder if I could just check with you. Could you let me know whether I was perhaps unreasonable in my requests? I wouldn't like someone to be reprimanded for something that is not his fault. If I was at fault—"

But Ootomo is already flailing politely at the other end of the line. "Oh no, not at all! You were entirely within your rights."

He's surprised how hard the relief hits him, and then he's angry at how he was made to doubt himself in the first place, at how he has  _let_ himself be made to doubt by a guy who was simply fussy and judgemental and incompetent.

"This was merely an unfortunate misunderstanding for which we would all like to apologize again," Ootomo is saying. "Of  _course_  our escorts will be happy to accommodate you, and if you would like to make an appointment…"

That… wasn't what he'd had in mind, either. Really… he pictures Tatsuya tied down on his bed, self-contained and amiably indulgent and the image is ridiculous and pointless and he isn't sure why that should be so when Jin… Jin…

He puts his hand over the phone as he takes a deep breath, suddenly flushed and a little hot because that was beautiful to look at, Jin straining with his arms over his head, the naked skin, and those dark eyes soft and wide, that… worked very well and he's within his rights, and maybe he needs to make that point and maybe he should just… do that.

Ootomo is saying something or other and Kame simply interrupts. "Yes, an appointment would be good. I wonder if Jin might be free Monday night."

There's only the briefest of silences on the other end of the line. Then Ootomo asks, "Jin? Are you sure? You sounded rather dissatisfied…"

But this time he knows what to expect. This isn't Tatsuya, this will not be like dates with Tatsuya, and as long as he doesn't expect it to be, it'll be fine. And he is sure that he didn't like an escort acting as though he was being irrational and presumptuous, when he was far from breaking any rules and just wanted to try out something a little different, something that's perfectly all right for him to demand. He's sure he'd quite like that settled, acknowledged. And why not this way when he's also sure that the thought of seeing Jin like that, of touching him like that turns him on while he's sitting right here in his car.

"It was a little problematic, but since you have spoken to him, I'm sure the misunderstanding is all cleared up now," he says breezily to Ootomo. "And since he is still new, I'd like to give him another chance."

He tells Ootomo the time – nine-thirty should give him plenty of room even if his part of the train station filming runs long – and ends the call.

Then he checks his voicemail, now that that's taken care of and he's no longer going to be distracted. It's about a new campaign they want him to take part in, perfectly timed with the message of his new film; they sprung it on him a week ago and when Hamaguchi uses words like "heartening" and "inspiring" Kame doesn't want to imagine the catchphrase they're going to stick him with. But he's a professional, it's part of the job and they'll be pleased with him. Fine. He has his private plans sorted and it's time to go back to his responsibilities.

Hamaguchi is happy to hear back from him so promptly, and she's even happier when he says he'll do the campaign. Then he turns the car towards the city center to pick up those chocolates. He should be home by eight.


	4. Chapter 4

### Friday 05 September

"That…" Jin says and then he stops, because he doesn't have a clue what to say because _that_ …

"I trust there's no problem," Ootomo says, tapping a silver pen on his desk.

Jin stares past Ootomo's impatient fingers and tries to think, to find words _._

"I told Kamenashi-sama that his requirements are not unreasonable by Johnny's standards and that any of our escorts will be happy to oblige him. He wants to give you a second chance."

There's noise in his head and his legs feel all weird, and Ootomo can't— this can't be happening, it _can't_ , he's hanging on to this job _because_ , and maybe there's no point after all if these things— with Kamenashi.

"Well?" Ootomo says eventually.

"I just—"

He can't say it. It wouldn't make a difference anyway, all Ootomo would say is, 'it's in the past, get over it,' and he'd still send him to Kamenashi.

Maybe Kamenashi only ties people up on Tuesdays.

And Jin needs the job. And it's not the same thing. This isn't the streets, Ootomo is _right_ , it's different.

It's different.

"Fine," he says, and then he clears his throat and says, "fine," again while the floor turns weak and hazy under his feet.

The tapping stops. Ootomo smiles. "I know I can count on you," he says, and it sounds like a threat.

Things are fuzzy after that, for a while.

He's dressed for the lounge so that's where he goes. There's people, there's talking, and Yuuya who smiles at him over the head of— somebody, there's faces that don't mean anything. He doesn't remember chatting anyone up, or the guy chatting _him_ up but sometimes they do and an hour later he's in one of the rooms and he doesn't remember the guy's name but it doesn't matter, he's easy, thank god. All Jin is asked to do is get on the bed and let himself get fucked, no fancy stuff or thought required. He gets with the rhythm, that's easy enough with normal people, lets the guy grope his ass and his back while he's thrusting away, keeps his eyes shut and tries to get the fucking panic under control.

Later, much later, after more indistinct hours in the lounge and a relaxation that took almost the full hour, he's in the break room, sitting in one of the chairs by the fridge with a cold can of coke in his hands and the TV mumbling in the background, and he's starting to feel a bit more present.

Shota is watching his women's fashion weekly with rapt attention, Danny beside him putting up with it because he has no choice. Tatsuya has occupied one of the dressers and is carefully applying fresh eyeliner.

Jin watches Satoshi pack up his stuff, dressed in jeans and a casual shirt, his reddish-blond hair still wet. It's early for a Friday.

When Satoshi looks up, he tries a smile. "You're done for the night?" he asks, and his voice sounds normal, regular. Good.

"Yeah." Satoshi closes his locker, stuffing some underwear into a small laundry bag. They can have their suits cleaned and delivered here, but most of them, Jin included, prefer to take their underwear home. "I've had about all the dick I can stand in a day. And Nino can drop me off with the car, so I might as well."

Ninomiya is a waiter at the adjoining restaurant. Rumour has it he and Satoshi are seeing each other. Sometimes Jin wonders how that works. But Ninomiya seems like a nice guy.

Satoshi waves them all a casual goodbye, and Shota makes a joke about slackers. Danny stretches in his armchair, saying it's probably time to get back into the game, but then slumps back to suffer through the rest of the fashion program instead.

Tatsuya is done and is wandering towards Jin, towards the fridge, looking confident and elegant as always. Jin has watched him handle clients and apparently he's even handling Kamenashi, because Tatsuya can pick and choose his clients and Ootomo wouldn't dream of ordering him to go anywhere, do _anything_ he didn't want to do.

And Jin's heart is racing again but suddenly he wants to know, and he's got do it now and he's got to be calm.

Tatsuya gets himself a small bottle of orange juice and only nods at Jin, casually, and Jin feels stupid asking him but he'd rather feel stupid than _not know_.

"Tatsuya-san. Can I ask you a question?"

Tatsuya stops mid-turn and lowers the juice, meeting Jin's eyes. "Of course," he says politely. He's always polite, always helpful if he can be. Jin likes him, even though he rarely knows how to talk to him.

He takes a breath. Tatsuya is also discreet. "Do you let Kamenashi tie you up?"

It's blunt, but blunt is all he's going to manage and not drive himself mad, and he prefers a blunt answer, anyway.

There's a pause, an odd moment when Tatsuya looks at him as if he suspects Jin of a joke he's not in on.

"Kamenashi?" he says, slowly. Jin nods tightly, and Tatsuya settles for a puzzled frown. "I don't know if someone's making up nonsense to entertain himself, but Kamenashi-san doesn't tie people up."

Something in his tone makes Jin think that he wouldn't like the people who would make up such nonsense. Something tells him that he likes the crazy bastard.

God.

"Really, he's as vanilla as they come."

"Okay," Jin says, because… right. Sure. "That's cool, that's good. But, you know, if he wanted to. Would you?"

"If he wanted to…" Tatsuya seems to have to work hard for the mental image, and he raises one shoulder slowly. "I'd let him. Of course I'd let him. He's a sweet guy and he knows the rules. Sure I'd let him tie me up." He shakes his head with a small laugh. "But trust me, it's not his scene."

Sweet guy. Vanilla. Jin nods. "Thank you, that's…" Bizarre. "…helpful."

He can't have sounded very convinced, because Tatsuya gives him a searching look. Thankfully he's too discreet to ask outright, and Jin manages a grateful smile that gets him off the hook for now, for this at least.

 

 

### Monday 8 September

Maybe Tatsuya was right, he considers as he turns onto the street, walks past the first block of run-down apartments; briskly, because he isn't stalling, and he isn't going to be late.

Maybe it was a fluke. Who knows what he'll be after, it's not like Kamenashi seems to have a good grasp of his own mind half the time—

He stops that train of thought. Not helpful.

The high hedges that shield Kamenashi's building from view are a long darkness stretching out beside him as he walks, no lights, no windows. Jin shivers when he's at the gate with the neat little name plates illuminated by a small light and the camera on him, and he's got it in his head again, the weird reactions and the fury and being pinned down under that coldly focussed stare and maybe Tatsuya is deluded.

Maybe he needs to stop thinking about this right now.

He rings the bell.

"Hello," he hears Kamenashi's voice, somewhere between a question and a greeting.

"It's Jin." He doesn't even sound scared.

The buzzer goes. "You know the way."

He does, and it's really not long enough, and then he's there and rings again, and the door opens at once.

"Hello again," Kamenashi says, and Jin is calm, he's very calm. He's had three days to calm himself down.

Kamenashi is a dark shape against the light falling onto the balcony from behind him, and his face is shadowy, unreadable.

But Jin is calm. "Good evening," he says as he follows Kamenashi inside. His voice is steady. "I'm sorry about our misunderstanding last time," he says before Kamenashi can. He's prepared this.

Kamenashi doesn't blink. He looks good, well-dressed and clean-shaven, 'desirable client' written all over him if it wasn't for the steel-string hardness in his eyes. "So am I," he replies, motioning for Jin to step up into the living area, and says, "I apologize if I frightened you," meticulously polite.

"You surprisedme," Jin clarifies, glad he's sorted this part out too. "Usually clients give some indication in advance if they want to try something new. And since we hadn't met before…"

Kamenashi looks interested and waits him out. It's uncomfortable.

"I had to check with Ootomo-san first," Jin finishes. "And he said you're fine. So… that's cool."

"Very good," Kamenashi says, looking pleased, and then he turns and there's a small snapping sound as he— locks the door.

Right. Jin makes himself unfreeze and thinks he might ask Tatsuya just how he defines 'sweet.'

When Kamenashi turns back, his expression hasn't changed. "I'm glad we get a chance to get it right this time."

Jin can think of nothing to say. He wonders whether Kamenashi knows that Jin's credit with management is currently used up. He really, really hopes not.

"Is there anything you need before we get started?" Kamenashi asks, and Jin thinks about playing for time but it would be useless, it could be worse than useless, and he doesn't want beer, he needs a clear head.

"No," he says, "I'm fine."

Kamenashi nods, satisfied with his answer but that's all right, the sooner they start, the sooner it's over, and Kamenashi pleased is better than the alternative, anyway.

Okay.

"Very good," Kamenashi says again. His eyes drop briefly to Jin's messenger bag, and he adds helpfully, "We're going to use the bed."

Okay. Jin nods his professional cooperation, takes the bag down. He leaves his jacket over the back of a chair and moves on, and he gets to the wide, expensive looking bed and then he doesn't look at the white sheets tidily folded back and the perfectly arranged pillows and the classy wood of the bedposts.

Just puts a handful of the club's standard-issue foil packets on the nightstand.

Doesn't look at the neat arrangement of neckties, classic blues and charcoal and one tasteful red stripe in bright artful ripples.

Turns around and breathes.

Kamenashi has moved closer, couch and armchair at his back, but it's really not close yet at all, he's keeping a safe distance, and the casual tilt of his hip against the side of the armchair means he's relaxed, he's pleased, he's going to stay there, and this is exactly what he meant for Jin to do.

"You can take off your clothes," he says.

So Jin does. He does it professionally, neither slow nor rushed. He doesn't look at the bed again because what's the point, it's not going to change anything and when he's done…

He undresses. It's quiet.

Until there's movement, Kamenashi is moving, but he's not coming close, not approaching Jin or the bed or the— he's simply moving over to the bookshelf and leans against it, his eyes on Jin, distantly appreciative.

Jin's shirt is off and his belt is open and normally, trousers and underwear are one move but… it doesn't have to be, nobody can say he's… oh what the hell. He drops both together. And straightens, and waits.

He does not like Kamenashi's deliberating look. But then, there's nothing here to like. He doesn't look at—

"So get on the bed," Kamenashi says softly, and Jin shivers.

He gets on the bed.

Kamenashi regards him a moment longer before he pushes himself away from the bookshelf. Here it goes. And it's normal that things start to move, it's time something happened, Jin is naked on the bed and what else are they going to do?

Kamenashi is coming towards him, and Jin can't tell if it's fast or slow or just focussed, but then he's there and if Jin dared, if he even wanted to, he could touch him.

His eyes are dark, blunt in their examination. Jin wants to think that people look at him like that all the time when they want to fuck him, but they don't. He doesn't get scared like this.

He doesn't shiver from the back of two fingers, brushing his chest almost tenderly.

The push doesn't come. He wants to ask, but his throat is dry; he sucks hard at the inside of his cheeks and swallows once and then, "What—" Stops, because something flashed in Kamenashi's eyes and maybe he should… stop. Wait.

"This is fine," Kamenashi says in a low, approving voice, and okay, he wants to fuck him after all.

Then Kamenashi pulls back his hand, turns around and wanders over to sit in the armchair.

He crosses his legs, leans comfortably into the side of the chair, and Jin tries not to stare because what the fuck.

But okay. Anything that doesn't have Kamenashi near him, near the bed, near the colour display on his right is good. Is probably very good. Jin can sit naked on a bed and wait for instructions. He can do that fine.

Slowly, Kamenashi leans more comfortably against one of the arms of his chair, props himself up on one elbow; looks Jin up and down, also slowly, _thoughtful_ and that's not any more reassuring from three meters away, not really, but. He's over there thinking, not over here doing.

Then Kamenashi nods, like he's pleased with something and— "Make yourself come."

What?

Kamenashi gives him his moment of surprise, says nothing. Still watching him; pleased, yes, slow intent sweeping along Jin's body, lazy, and that's weird— no, it's not weird, guys like to watch, they ask that of him. Not usually from halfway across the room, not when they've got other—

He doesn't look at the dark slash on white, barely an arm's length away, doesn't want to give Kamenashi ideas or reminders, and Kamenashi's not even bothering with his face, not trying to outstare him, just shifts a bit more comfortably in the chair, still expectant, and okay, he can do this, he doesn't need to _understand_ it but he can do it, and he can do it better if he doesn't think too much.

So he takes a quiet breath and spreads his legs a bit more, and gets to work.

Tunes Kamenashi out, tunes everything out, everything but the feeling of his own palm doing things _just_ right… and he manages to get hard, not as fast as usual but it doesn't take agonizingly long, either, after all he knows the buttons to push.

And it's working, vaguely pleasurable if he ignores everything and he can get there from here if he just keeps going, keeps it snug, sticks with the rhythm he knows. He doesn't add extras like he might with other guys because no need for complications and he doesn't take guesses with Kamenashi and he can keep his eyes down while he works, zone out on the pretty patterns in the laminate while he concentrates on pure sensation, that's just realistic.

Kamenashi would tell him if he wanted eye contact, just like he'd tell him if he changed his mind but there's nothing, nothing when Jin moves his hand a bit faster. With other guys he would ask if they're really sure they want him to come so early, he'd look occasionally to see how they're liking it, too, but he's doing what he's told here, best just to do what he's told and it won't be long now, he's getting hot, his breath is getting short and the pace—

Movement at the edge of his vision freezes him rigid. Kamenashi's steps on the laminate, and Jin looks up and it seems a long way somehow, dark slacks and belt and shirt and sharp collarbones and smooth certainty as Kamenashi _moves_ , coming towards—

—but no, he's not _that_ close, he's just passing by, he's going for the drinks cabinet and ignoring Jin, and for a tiny moment Jin wants to be annoyed at that but he can't be, he's _glad._

And he looks down again, finds the spot on the floor because he wants his concentration back and the hard-on he half lost, and he's okay when Kamenashi passes on the way back, doesn't stop, doesn't slow, and Jin's not really watching, he's just making sure, good to know where all the pieces are and then there's the sound of clothes rustling and a quiet knock, a glass on a table and okay, that's Kamenashi settled, and suddenly Jin is breathing.

Breathing, and then he remembers to move his hand, and it only takes a few strokes to get him hard again, hard enough. Kamenashi is shifting a bit, just a bit, it's okay, and Jin hears a zipper, and some soft noises and he understands those, they are familiar, safe because Kamenashi isn't likely to spring surprises on him now and Jin's not going to invite any, just keep his mouth shut and his hand working and he can concentrate, really concentrate, get this done.

He speeds up again, makes sure the buzz stays constant now, three, five, ten strokes and he tightens his fingers, puts pressure under the tip with his thumb just so, and then he feels the tingle, the start of the end, and he leans back a bit, adjusts for aim and does it harder, and again, and he's there, closes his eyes for the shaky release and his lips are tight when he shudders, spilling on his chest and into his hand.

He waits out the dwindling spikes of sensation, catching his breath. No tissues, and maybe using the sheets would be a bad idea, so eventually he wipes his palm on his thigh. And when he really can't put it off any more, he looks up and at Kamenashi.

Who is hard, and has stopped doing anything about it; is looking at him with his lips slightly parted and an intent look in his eyes, and Jin licks his lips because they're suddenly dry and then he just tries to breathe regularly and— stay. On the bed. Right here. Stay here.

Kamenashi takes his time tucking himself back in, getting up and adjusting himself in his underpants, smoothing down his unbuttoned shirt front, and that's— a good thing, yes, every minute he stays over there…

Kamenashi brushes his hands off on the sides of his trousers, probably sweaty, yes, he's turned on, and he's going to want to get off now… but still taking his time about it, it's slow and deliberate and _disturbing_ , and every step is a step too close but it's going to be a lot closer still, and can they please just get it over with, all of it, so Jin can… so it's over.

And Kamenashi starts to undo his cuffs, and then he rolls up his sleeves and Jin tells himself it's only the orgasm that has him feeling so weird and like he's falling into something, it's only that. He concentrates on breathing, and swallows a couple of times, and by then Kamenashi has taken another step. Not long now.

And then he's there, and Jin sits very still, doesn't even try to look up at him, standing firm and immovable between Jin and—

He has to stop thinking about escape.

He waits, barely breathing, his eyes falling somewhere in the region of toned stomach muscles over a black waistband with grey designer letters. One of the buttons on Kamenashi's open shirt has a loose thread.

Kamenashi says nothing, just stands and… observes, presumably. It can't be as long as it feels. The hard-on under the CKs is plain and obvious and something will have to happen soon. Jin tries not to think about what.

It's a light touch when Kamenashi cups his chin, measuring, almost curious, tilting his head first this way, then that, and Jin goes with it, tries to give no resistance at all because that won't help. He pushes Jin's hair out of his face and he's not rough at all, not gripping him but somehow Kamenashi's eyes aren't getting any kinder.

And then something settles, and Jin finds himself looking up with his throat dry and tight and the fucking ties are right there and Jin almost says— almost fucking asks— but he knows it's no good, he knows what Kamenashi wants isn't for Jin to suck him off, it's—

"Lie down," Kamenashi says, quietly, and nudges him gently before letting go.

That.

He's thought it through. Thought through everything that could— that a _client_ , one who knows the rules, is known for knowing the rules—

Kamenashi, who is waiting for Jin to move, and Jin doesn't want a reminder, won't be difficult, just won't _think_. Pushes himself back so his legs are all the way on the bed, a bit higher so his head comes down on the thick pillow, and when Kamenashi picks up the ties all Jin looks at is the ceiling, white and harmless.

Kamenashi walks up the side of the bed and after a moment, Jin feels the mattress dip on his left, and he doesn't flinch. Just keeps looking straight ahead, lets things happen, lets Kamenashi do—

"Your hand," comes his voice, and Jin flinches after all. And now he has to look, and Kamenashi has one knee on the bed and is looking down at him, adamant with his palm open and waiting, one of the blue ties in his other hand.

Jin reminds himself to breathe and simply holds his hand out, looking away again. Feels Kamenashi's fingers around his wrist, warm and firm, lets Kamenashi stretch his arm upward, doesn't fight it when the fabric slides around his wrist, not like then.

Just bites his teeth together when it is stretched tight and stares ahead and tries not to think.

But then Kamenashi is moving again, around the bed and the other side dips and Jin knows what's coming and he _knows_ , not thinking is not working, thinking of the rules is not working, he doesn't want to be difficult but he _knows_ — he can't— this is _it_.

"The other one, too, please."

That sounds sharper and that… and he can't. And he knows he'll be doing himself a favour if he just does it, does it quickly, before he pisses the guy off, the guy who's going to have him tied up and helpless and— and he isn't moving, he can't move.

"I—" he says and then he quickly stops because he can tell, he can just _tell_ by the way Kamenashi's eyes narrow that this is a very bad idea. He doesn't know what he was going to say, anyway.

He can't move. The only mercy is that Kamenashi, staring down at him, still unyielding and increasingly impatient, isn't moving either.

Except for his outstretched hand, which makes a clear 'give' motion, and Kamenashi's eyes are hard. Time's up.

It takes Jin three tries to make himself lift his arm and hold it out, and he doesn't breathe at all. If he does, he'll… it wouldn't be good.

He stops himself from tensing when Kamenashi arranges things to his satisfaction, when the tie slips around his wrist once, twice, when it goes taut. And then it is done.

He doesn't look at Kamenashi, at anything. On the ceiling, the white is changing shades and structure, little dots dancing on shifting shadows.

He remembers to breathe and remembers to keep it quiet, and it's long and hard and it doesn't seem to help at all.

His heart is racing, and it's too loud. His hands are clammy and they feel cold but it's not about circulation, they're tight but Kamenashi hasn't— they're tight but not painful, it doesn't hurt, not yet— no, and he doesn't hold on to them, doesn't test them, he doesn't want to know and Kamenashi's hand runs up his leg and Jin flinches hard but… that's all, that's all there is, and— fine.

Kamenashi prompts him again, his hand on the back of Jin's calf, and fine. Hardly makes a difference. He stretches out the leg, and then the other one too for good measure and a tie goes around each ankle and then around the bedpost, no difference, really, though Kamenashi won't be able to— whatever, no, no thinking, Kamenashi will do— whatever. Whatever he wants.

Jin stares at the ceiling.

Ignores Kamenashi, who is quiet now, not moving; but still there, and Jin doesn't want to look at him, doesn't want to think about what's coming but at least he _can_ , he'll know, he can be prepared. He hears the slide of fabric and something falls softly to the ground. The mattress dips again. Jin breathes. The first touch is on his wrist.

Light, almost a tickle, playing at the edge of the loop of silk around his hand and Jin doesn't want to think about it, just doesn't want to think.

"Is anything too tight?" The question comes out of nowhere, cold and distant and practical and Jin almost flinches again and he can't give an answer, that would involve thinking, making words somehow.

But the moment passes, Kamenashi seems to take his silence as answer enough, continues touching him— too light to say if it's— a thumb, because Kamenashi's hand curls around his wrist now, lightly still, not painful, inching his way up to Jin's elbow, thumb rubbing curious circles into the bend.

Then his fingers move on, trail down the inside of Jin's upper arm, and Jin feels exposed even though it's just the arms, but at least he can track the touch, along that line between the muscles where it hurts when you press too hard but Kamenashi doesn't, and he can feel when it changes from fingertips to a flat palm on his triceps, firmer now, towards his shoulder.

He flicks a quick look at Kamenashi's face, unsure what he's looking for, but Kamenashi just seems to be concentrating, and interested and mildly turned on.

He leans closer, Jin can feel a clothed leg press against his naked side but it's just there, not intended to do anything. Kamenashi's belt buckle, hanging open from the loops, swings lightly when he shifts his weight, the muscles tensing in his stomach. Kamenashi is pushing Jin's hair back again, touching his forehead with that weirdly floating touch that goes with a weirdly intent gaze and Jin doesn't like the hands on his face but it's not like he can stop it and it's not like it couldn't be worse so he just keeps still.

Doesn't do anything, doesn't look when Kamenashi's fingers are on his mouth, and he doesn't like that either but at least it's familiar, a little pathetic even, people do that all the time and half the time they say—

Kamenashi says nothing, flicks his thumb against Jin's lower lip just enough to be suggestive and when his fingers trail down the side of Jin's neck, Jin risks another glance.

To find Kamenashi's eyes still on his mouth, pupils black and wide, he knows that sort of look and the hard-on that goes with it and whatever he's thinking—

Kamenashi's eyes flicker up to his and Jin quickly looks away. He may just be imagining the pause before the hands on him start to move again.

They stop at his nipples; a hard first pinch, and Jin's glad he isn't sensitive there like some other guys; then easing, and then it's a palm, rubbing flat over one of them before tracing wider circles across his chest, leaving a brief slickness where the come hasn't quite dried.

He holds his breath when Kamenashi's fingertips get close to his collarbone, but then they lift, and next there's the edge of nails ghosting down his left side and he gets goosebumps despite himself, and Kamenashi plays with that a bit, one hand up Jin's chest then feathery light down all the way to his hip and it's not nice but it's rhythmic, predictable at least.

Then there's a bit more shifting, a bit more of Kamenashi's upper body disappearing from view as he works his way down Jin's ribcage, and the familiar feeling of a hard-on pressed against the side of Jin's leg. Jin sneaks a glance at where Kamenashi is pondering his bellybutton and thinks the guy has patience, because he's been hard for a good while now and he seems in no hurry.

Almost dreamy instead, movements tentative and slow as he reaches out and circles Jin's bellybutton with his finger. Circles back, and back again, dips in. _Play around_ , Ootomo said, and that wouldn't be so bad, this doesn't feel bad, and if Kamenashi looked like that all the time, eyes almost soft under his feathery brown fringe, if the touches were meant this gentle and Jin didn't have to be tied down and helpless for it, it could be okay. The muscles in Kamenashi's shoulders move and Jin can feel what it does where he can't see, Kamenashi seems fascinated by the piercing for the bellybutton stud Jin isn't wearing tonight, rarely wears for appointments at all; Kamenashi's observant, most clients don't even notice it's—

All touch stops. When his eyes snap to Kamenashi's face, Kamenashi is looking straight at him, sharp as broken glass, his lips compressed and all dreaminess gone.

Jin swallows.

The glare doesn't change, Kamenashi doesn't move, Jin's heart starts racing again, gods, what is it _now_?

Still staring, Kamenashi gets off him, bed dipping here, there, leveling out as he is standing next to it; and Kamenashi turns away.

Jin jerks his head up and there are the ties pulling at his arms and he can't get up and he can't _move_ and he tries not to panic because he can still see him, wandering over to the couch and surely Kamenashi is just going to get— a glass of water or something, something totally normal and maybe he just needs a break, maybe he needs to piss—

He stops when pain flashes through his wrists. He needs to stop. Because Kamenashi is right there in his line of sight and he knows the rules and there's not going to be anything—

Kamenashi turns around and he's holding the tie that Jin wore earlier and left draped over the back of the couch along with his shirt, and Jin eases himself back down. Okay.

He doesn't need to be tied down any further, that much just became clear but if it'll make Kamenashi happier, good, because that icy look… didn't look happy, and this is vaguely better, now he looks like he's found a solution to a problem, and another tie isn't going to make it worse.

So he just lies still as Kamenashi walks up to the side of the bed and sits down, sweeps his eyes along Jin's body until they're on his face and the tie comes up and—

Jin turns his head away whiplash-fast, his heart is hammering, _fuck_ no, not this, not this _too_.

Kamenashi's shadow falls over him and the fabric slithers over his face before Kamenashi straightens it, and he twists his neck the other direction, and he starts to tear at the ties holding him to the bed again.

"Hold still," Kamenashi says impatiently. The fabric disappears, because the hand holding it is on Jin's chest now, pressing him down, but as soon as Jin stills, just a little, Kamenashi's hand lifts up for another try and Jin watches and he can't get a grip on himself, on this—

"I could just close my eyes." It doesn't even sound like him, like he's feeling, it sounded like a whisper when everything in him wants to scream.

Kamenashi studies him, absently winding the makeshift blindfold around his fist, and Jin can't stop staring at it, he wants to think he can negotiate with this guy, get through to him somehow. But he can't stop staring at the blindfold going round and round, tight and slow, and the muscles shifting in Kamenashi's forearm.

"That's not quite the same," Kamenashi points out eventually, and fuck, Jin's not even surprised, what could you expect, it's not like Kamenashi cares about _Jin's_ point of view here, and he can't think of anything else, he's got nothing—

"Blindfolds aren't included."

The words are out of his mouth before he can think it through and he looks up now, needing to see, hoping Kamenashi will buy it.

"In standard services," he says unsteadily, and it's not perfect but maybe he'll buy it if Jin just looks convincing enough. "They're not— they're extra."

The studying… is different now, and he can't say how, but it's not good.

"Really," Kamenashi says. Definitely not a question this time, even though one of those ridiculously tidy eyebrows is faintly raised.

Jin doesn't trust his voice anymore but he tries a nod, tries to look sure of himself.

Kamenashi gives him a level look which holds no warmth at all. "I think," he says slowly, "I could probably afford it.

And that's that. He can afford it, he can do whatever he wants. And he can be pissed off and impatient and he could do anything.

Jin lowers his eyes. Stops fighting. Feels the silk fall on his face; does nothing. Lets Kamenashi— whatever. Swallows and holds still and when the first knot pulls tight at the back of his head he almost loses it because it's too much, it's all too much, he came here and he did everything and took everything and if there is one more fucking thing, one more _fucking_ creepy thing—

The light's gone. The touch stays, coming round, light on his forehead. Jin doesn't flinch, doesn't fight. Doesn't lose it.

Then Kamenashi gets off the bed and Jin's breath hitches but he stays close by, doesn't wander off and Jin doesn't want to be grateful for _anything_ this fucking asshole does but at least all he's doing is take off his clothes, all Jin can hear is fabric sliding over skin and the last bit of a zipper coming down, and sure, he's probably good and ready now, he must be having the time of his life watching Jin come apart tied to his fucking bed and thinking up all kinds of— god. Oh god.

"What's your problem anyway?" Kamenashi asks, vaguely impatient, matter of fact even as it cuts into the darkness. "You said you talked to management. They must have told you I don't damage escorts."

And Jin thinks they told him all kinds of things, they also told him Kamenashi isn't a crazy son of a bitch and nothing's going to happen, _play around_ and _vanilla_ and have they ever fucking _met_ this guy—

"Or is the attitude included, too?"

" _Fuck_ you!"

Jin flinches, freezes. He didn't mean… he _meant_ but— oh god, oh shit… and he's holding his breath and he's braced for— for anything, _anything_ and he can't _see_ he won't _know_ he—

There's nothing. He holds his breath and bites his lip and there's nothing, nothing at all, no sound. No sound.

Then the bed moves, dips, and—

Touch, and he's paralyzed, there's a sob…

… there's nothing but touch. It's on his chest, hand, yes, and that aimless rubbing thing, and still he shivers and he tries not to make a sound, not a fucking sound.

"I guess it is," Kamenashi says, like he's content to have that clarified.

Not a sound.

The weight lifts from his chest and there's air, nothing, it's like falling, and a sudden scratch at his neck pulls him up, makes him start, _bastard_ , but he gets it now, this is the new game in town.

There are gaps now; Kamenashi's touch jumping around, chest, shoulder— stomach, his sides again where he bucks up, he can't help it, weird and disorienting but not… like it could be, he tells himself that, just weird, just disorienting and Kamenashi is enjoying himself, seems strangely not angry and Jin can't make sense of it.

A hand slides over his thigh, fingertips pressing down on the inside and Jin twitches again, slumps down again. Curls his fingers in sharply and hopes Kamenashi didn't see.

"That's included too, right?" Kamenashi says. "That's not _extra_ , is it?"

Jin keeps his mouth shut. It's pretty much the only thing he's in charge of at this point and he'll be doing himself a favour if he makes the most of it.

The hand lifts and something new, no, his throat again but not pressing down, all good, under control, and there's sudden weight on him but he just breathes out slowly, it's just Kamenashi sliding a leg over him, not shy about his hard-on and the roll of his hips against Jin, about setting himself a relaxed little rhythm.

"You _are_ pretty, you know," Kamenashi says, voice getting rougher, and fingers feather over Jin's cock, don't linger, flicker up over his stomach making the muscles there contract. "Very appealing like this." The fingers are circling his nipples again, good, Jin doesn't care much about that. He can focus on sound, on Kamenashi's breathing which is coming a little faster now. Maybe there's a chance that this will be over soon.

Another gap, and then it's his cock again, and fingers moving, down, back; Jin doesn't like clients playing with his balls at the best of times but he just holds still. It doesn't last long, the guy is getting erratic, and eventually he can relax again, as much as that's possible while—

The next touch is in his face, and he jumps, sucks in a breath, and Kamenashi's thumb slips past his lips, _playing around_ , spreading wetness over his mouth.

Oh. Right.

Not easy like this; not comfortable but it's not like that's been an overriding consideration all night and this is okay, he knows this, it's fine, it's _welcome_ , at least there's an end in sight.

So he waits, doesn't disrupt, does nothing while Kamenashi feels up his mouth some more and makes up his fucking mind and then there it is, the shift, the knee on either side of him and Kamenashi's hand comes around his head, lifts him up a little, and he feels vulnerable and helpless and blind but it will actually help, and the guy even adjusts the pillow under him, and then he feels the smallest bit of pressure against the back of his head and Kamenashi exhales and he just _knows_ and opens his mouth.

"Nice," Kamenashi says, soft approval, slides in, pulls back, goes deep with a little sigh. "That's good."

It's not too bad. Jin can breathe through his nose and it's not too fast. Just a guy fucking his mouth, nothing new except it's an odd angle and he can't do anything, held in place by Kamenashi's hand and the thrusts coming down, thick and steady. Kamenashi seems to like it from the soft sounds he makes here and there when he hits the back of Jin's mouth, the easy pace he sets. He must be watching, he'll be getting off on watching when Jin can't see anything, and he's very controlled for a guy who's been hard forever, and Jin doesn't want to think about Kamenashi and control, he wants it over, he'd take it faster if they could just get there already.

Kamenashi stops.

His cock rests on Jin's bottom lip for a moment, full, heavy, while Kamenashi's hand fumbles in his hair, and then the hand is gone and with it the blindfold and Jin's head sinks back onto the pillow and he blinks against the light and the rush of gratitude. And very carefully doesn't look at Kamenashi, looks into space just past his shoulder.

Kamenashi's swipes his thumb thoughtfully over Jin's lip, and Jin does nothing, doesn't move, doesn't move when Kamenashi reaches up and tugs at a strand of hair, thumb drawing a wet line on his forehead.

Doesn't _breathe_ when Kamenashi leans forward, and left, and messes with the tie around his wrist until it falls off, doesn't react when the same happens on the other side. Doesn't get his hopes up until Kamenashi has swung himself off the bed and gone down to the end, to start on his ankles, and that's when he pulls his arms towards himself and relaxes, just a little, just a tiny bit.

His feet are free and Kamenashi is standing there, studying him, as if waiting for him to make a move, a _wrong_ move. For all Jin knows, even not moving is a wrong move.

Kamenashi nods. "Knees and elbows, please."

Thank _god_ , Jin thinks dizzily, because this is it, this is the home stretch, and he moves at last and then he gets really wobbly because he hasn't moved in so fucking long and been so tense for so fucking long, nothing works like he expects it to, but he recovers quickly, this is routine, he gets there and who cares about elegant.

He doesn't think Kamenashi has moved, but now he does; Jin hears a rustle, and then there's weight on the mattress. The sounds of a foil package tearing, a short pause, another package, and he doesn't flinch away from Kamenashi's hand on his hip, he's ready, holds still for the usual positioning and Kamenashi pushes inside without fuss.

Jin breathes slow a couple of times, relaxes – and that works, works fine, nothing weird here, nothing unusual.

A ragged breath from Kamenashi, the first pull out and the thrust back in and he's hard, _really_ hard, this won't last a minute. Kamenashi's hands on his hips aren't rough, merely purposeful as they set the pace and Jin goes with it, this is easy, smooth, over and over until Kamenashi shifts behind him and the angle changes and the pace speeds up and up and a hand lifts from his hips, comes heavy between his shoulderblades, pins him in place to take the final few thrusts, and there's a cut-off moan from Kamenashi, and a sigh and he stills, and then there is just breathing.

Done. They're done.

He thinks. Hopes. Please let them be done.

The hand on his back lifts, leaves a bit of sweat that cools fast, and Kamenashi pulls out, lets go.

No lingering touches, no funny business. Jin feels his weight shift through the mattress as he gets off the bed but he's silent, his breathing evening out and Jin doesn't want to move, doesn't want to take any chances but he can't stay like this either; he stretches out his legs a bit, lowers his hips onto the bed and nothing happens, nothing at all. Then he hears Kamenashi's steps moving away, and the bathroom door, and Jin slowly turns on his back, rubs his hands over his face, rolls his shoulders, relaxes at last, a little. Vague sounds of running water, and okay, he'll be getting rid of the condom and washing his hands, taking a piss probably, that's all good, that's not scary.

Jin props himself up on one elbow, wonders uneasily if that'll look too casual, too comfortable, too _anything_ but that's the thing with Kamenashi, how can you know when none of it makes sense?

He raises himself enough to keep an eye on the corner with the bathroom and hopes for the best.

The turning of the key in the bathroom door gives him two seconds' warning, and he breathes in, holds himself very still.

Kamenashi has pulled on some grey sweatpants but his chest is still bare; there's a sheen of sweat on his skin and his hair is tousled in his face. He doesn't look like he's got much of a purpose as he comes nearer, gives no sign that he minds Jin's new position, or that he's even noticed it. His eyes skim over Jin but don't want to settle, and he turns towards the kitchen, moving— no, he stops, halfway between the bed and the dining table, gives Jin an unreadable look. "Would you like a drink, too?"

Jin stares with his thoughts racing; you don't turn down drink, hospitality, they get trained in that before the health checks are even back, but he doesn't want alcohol, he needs a clear head, he's not _certain_ yet and who knows if this is one with a right answer and a wrong answer.

"We're done," Kamenashi informs him in a cool but civil tone, and Jin wonders if he dares believe him, but something stupid in him already does and oh, god, thank you.

Kamenashi raises his eyebrows.

"I'd like some water, please," Jin says, managing smoothly despite the relief that's pulsing through him and making his head feel all weird.

Kamenashi nods, and this time Jin thinks his eyes linger for a moment, narrow slightly, but then he proceeds to the kitchen and anyway they're _done_ , it's over. Probably.

Slowly, he scoots forward on the bed, looks for where he dropped his pants. Slowly, like someone who has concluded an appointment successfully and has satisfied a client and isn't shaky in the knees because he spent most of it fucking terrified.

He's got his boxer briefs on and is standing when Kamenashi comes back, holds out a small bottle of Evian. He's got a beer in his other hand.

"Thank you," Jin says when he accepts, meeting his eyes briefly because it's polite, it's what a calm person would do, but Kamenashi doesn't seem to care one way or the other, just nods again.

"You can freshen up if you like," he says with a small motion of his head towards the bathroom, and Jin gets even more polite when he declines just in case Kamenashi has a problem with his offer being turned down, with Jin not spending a minute longer in this apartment, in this apartment _naked_ , than he absolutely has to.

But no, it seems okay, Kamenashi only says, "If you're sure," and then he turns away from Jin, walking back around the bed, to the wall side.

Jin doesn't follow the movement. Safer just to focus on his trousers. Don't hurry; don't fumble. They're done, and Kamenashi seems… well. Some sort of pleased; Jin would probably know if he weren't.

For now, Jin approves of pleased. His private opinion about just what pleases the likes of Kamenashi can wait until he's far away.

He takes two steps to pick up his shirt from the back of the couch, and when he straightens up, Kamenashi has come closer and— god. Jin barely stops himself from recoiling, because Kamenashi is holding his tie, is holding it out, and he's just being helpful, Jin even knows that but god, he didn't need that, not now. He mumbles his thanks less successfully this time, takes it, and his fingers are trembling and he hopes Kamenashi doesn't see. He has another sip of water, a brief pause before he has to tie complicated knots and not make a fool of himself.

Then he puts the bottle on the floor, he needs both hands for the shirt, he's not going to fumble and he doesn't look at Kamenashi but can tell he's got on the bed, and he doesn't think about whether Kamenashi is watching him, enjoying some show Jin is careful not to put on, because they're done and it's over and in a few minutes he's going to be out of here.

He buttons up the shirt, carefully, no mistake this time. He's even more careful with the tie, and that goes fine, too. His jacket is over the chair where he put it when he came in, but jacket makes him think 'outside' and outside makes him wonder what he's looking like; he should use the bathroom, check.

He looks at Kamenashi after all where he's sitting on the bed with his feet bare, propped up against the headboard. His legs are stretched out in front of him, sprawling a bit with post-fucking relaxation. Those brown eyes are on Jin, but weirdly, almost like they don't really see him, and the hardness in them is gone for the moment.

He opens his mouth, almost asks… but no. He's not stopping here, not for anything, and Kamenashi won't let him leave his apartment looking like a messed-up whore, and that will have to _do_.

He gets his jacket, considered movements, with Kamenashi saying nothing. Wipes over his face quickly to take care of any… spit, whatever. Seems okay and he doesn't care, he only cares about getting out.

Kamenashi is for once not watching him when he turns around again, absorbed in the pensive tilt of his beer bottle, withdrawn somehow under the hair falling in his face. But once Jin's picked up his bag he gets up instantly, takes the key from the coffee table and unlocks the door for him. There's a last moment of unease, of expecting an ambush when Jin bends to slip into his shoes, but when he straightens again, Kamenashi hasn't moved, is politely holding the door open, meets Jin's eyes.

"Thank you," Kamenashi says, "it was a pleasure."

There is no hint of irony in his voice, and Jin bows, keeping his voice just as even.

"Not at all."

He steps out, takes another step, and another, is two meters away when the door closes behind him. He doesn't speed up, just keeps walking, down the stairs, across the courtyard, out of the gate which opens for him automatically. Around the corner; around another corner; then he… stops, leans against the nearest wall, jacket be damned, exhales and feels cool air on his face, just stands there because it's better than falling over. Doesn't think of ropes, of… of anything. Thinks of soccer scores. Thinks, by the time he thinks clearly, that a cigarette would help. So he lights one and checks his watch, and he'll probably even make the last connection from Shinagawa if he just starts walking again.

So he does, and he makes it, and isn't he having a great day.

He curls up in a corner seat of the train, ignoring everything and everybody, lets them think he's drunk, reminds himself he's got a lot to be grateful for. He isn't wet, isn't bleeding, isn't even hurting. He's getting paid for this.

He's still trembling by the time he gets off the train, walks for five minutes through dark streets with shadowy corners, fumbles for the lock to let himself into the apartment. He leaves the light on when he goes to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

### Tuesday 09 September

Tuesday is a bright, sunny day, and they postpone the planned shooting on the police station set for getting the school-skipping scenes in the can first. The personnel is the same except for the guy who plays the police officer, but the guy is laid back about it; he'll get half pay for today's contracted time anyway and get to come back later on full pay.

Toyoda isn't required on set, and neither are Matsura and Fukushima; it's just Kame and the boys, and some extras posing as mothers with children and pensioners with dogs, and the atmosphere is great. During break time, they sit on the low stone wall around a lawn bed in the warm autumn sun with fresh tea and cans of coke, legs stretched out before them, and Morioka shares around manju sticks. Kame feels more relaxed than he has in a week.

"You'll probably bring your mom," one of the kids is saying to Kobi-kun about the premiere, but it's all in good fun, and Kobi laughs as he elbows him in the ribs. Leaning back on his arms, hands in the grass, Morioka reassures Kobi he's got a few months to find himself a girlfriend, while the other two whip out their cell phones and show around pictures they've taken of their current dates.

"Whoa, cool cell," Kobi says, girl troubles forgotten, and Kame thinks that his role as the class nerd isn't a wide reach for him. "That's the one with the GPS and the barcode reader and the video and the two cameras, right? You got a micro card in there? How much memory?"

Kame doesn't even know the meaning of half the terminology that gets thrown around for the next few minutes as cell specs are being compared. Even Morioka brings his out, a sleek black affair for which Kame has recently seen commercials, and which gets a few 'oohs' and 'aahs' and a resigned nod from Kobi, who mutters something about a tradeoff between looks and features.

Kame can't resist and produces his own, and Kobi says, "Oh, _man_!" into the ensuing silence, and Genda thwaps him over the head.

Morioka is grinning at Kame. "I guess it… makes calls?"

"It's got e-mail, too," Kame says innocently. He flips it open so they can see it's got sparkly lights on the display and everything.

There was voicemail from Ootomo after the drive to Chiba in the morning, 'Kitagawa Financial Services surveying user satisfaction with our products'. He's called back to reassure him, no complaints this time, but he declined making another appointment – he can do that once he knows his schedule for the next two weeks, there's no rush.

"And a camera," Genda is saying. He's laughing.

Kame makes a surprised face. "It does?"

"Two megapixels," Kobi says weakly between giggles. "If you, uh, want to take a photo of a… a… a house, in good light, it should be okay."

It'll be good to get back to normal, now that that Jin guy is dealt with, no matter how much of a turn-on that— it's just not Kame's kind of thing, not really, and he made that point to Ootomo, too, once he noticed the man was getting altogether the wrong idea.

He'll see Tatsuya next week, maybe.

He looks at what he guesses is the alleged camera with the alleged two megapixels. "How about this group?" he asks spontaneously. "The light's good enough, isn't it?"

"Could work," Genda says, "but I guess you have no zoom?"

That, Kame genuinely doesn't know about; he doesn't use the camera. A phone's a phone, he uses it for calls and voicemail and even uses e-mail rarely.

But the boys take him in hand, and ten minutes later he knows more than he ever wanted about his cell and its unfortunate limitations. He also has several shots of the boys sitting on the grass in various dorky poses, and has posed with them for a couple taken by more worthy equipment. Then the break is over, and he slides his cell back into his pocket.

"Kamenashi-san, Morioka-san, Kobi-san," Iijima's assistant calls, and they wander the twenty meters to the spot under a few evergreens, picked for the scene where Kame's character happens to overhear Morioka explaining the gang code to a terrified Kobi. A trail of cameras and microphones, of lighting and make-up personnel follows.

At the end of the day, the prints from the photoshoot come in, still smelling of chemicals, and cast and some curious crew gather around them in the wardrobe trailer. As the star, Kame gets his own set; there's probably one for Nogushi, too. Everybody else just gets to look.

The photos are impressive, as Soga Jou's work always is; they are impressive because Kame still remembers what he felt like that day and it doesn't show, but even more impressive because the photographer managed to make the shots with Kame and Toyoda look as though they could make a convincing couple. The group shots of Kame and the boys are also very good, Morioka's position as the leader established subtly but unmistakably, not interfering with Kame's status but complementing it. There are a couple of shots of only the two of them, and—

"Nice," Morioka says over his shoulder, admiration in his voice.

Kame nods, lifts up the top one so Morioka can see the one below. They are excellent, perhaps the best of the bunch; there's an ease in them that reminds Kame of the impromptu scene they did last week.

He hands the rest over to Morioka. "Soga Jou is a wizard with a camera. Always get him for your important photoshoots if you can."

*~*~*

When he shows the photographs to Midori that night after they've cleared the table, she is full of praise too. "She's looking good," she says, holding the photograph with Toyoda critically at arm's length. "She must be very self-disciplined. There's only so much even Soga Jou can do."

"She's determined to stay in the production, and she doesn't want her role reduced, either," Kame says, raising the wine bottle with a look at Midori's empty glass. She nods. "But Matsura is pushing hard for some of those parts. Between her and Fukushima, they're poisoning the whole set atmosphere."

"Nobody's speaking up?"

"I talked to Iijima, but he likes Matsura just a little too much. And I guess it would be more convenient for him, too. He'll need to do some adjusting soon."

"Press?" Midori says over a thoughtful sip of her wine. Kame doesn't flinch, but he puts his own wine down because even the thought makes him want to have a clear head. Press is part of the job, and he's learned how to charm them, how to make them useful; he had to, after the scandal, or his career would have been ruined no matter what he denied. He depends on hungry gossip rags as much as the more legitimate magazines for his promotions, his visibility. But it always feels like a gamble, judging what he needs to give them to keep them safely satisfied and at a distance. There are no reporters among his friends and he doesn't talk to them unless he has to.

"I'm not sure she'd thank me," he says.

"You could ask," Midori says, but she says it easily because she knows how he feels and she knows why, and she lets it drop, and goes back to looking at photos, the boys, Kame and the boys…

"Who's that?"

"Morioka Akihito," Kame says. "Plays the leader of my delinquents."

"You look good together."

That… Kame throws her a quick, cautious glance, because that isn't exactly the comment he's been looking for, not what he wants anybody to think about pictures of him with other men. But she just looks pleased, appreciative; and she's right of course, they do look good together. Kame thought so himself.

"Yes. We hit it off well. And somehow Soga Jou… you know what he's like, he sees things… puts them in pictures." It gives him pause, but only briefly.

"Yes." She smiles, studies the other picture of Kame and Morioka, then the first one again. "These are really good."

Fanservice, Kame thinks to himself. It can be fanservice, nothing's wrong with that, it's safe, everyone knows that.

"You should show them to your parents. Your mother's been e-mailing me about how you never write her back."

Kame manages a guilty smile and promises to do better.

"By the way," Midori says, "I'm going out tomorrow night, Enoki-chan has a pre-premiere showing of her new play, just family and friends. They're doing something a bit more experimental this time. It should be fun. Want to come along?"

He cringes inwardly. He likes his theatre simple, accessible, nothing abstract or overly philosophical.

But. Midori wouldn't make a fuss if he said no, she wouldn't complain about his taste or lack of it, not like—

He stops the thought, taken aback. He doesn't know where that came from all of a sudden, he stopped these thoughts so long ago.

"Small reception," Midori is saying dreamily. "Average wine, horrible little pastries…"

"You make it sound tempting."

"Don't want to lure you there under false pretenses. But it's a friendly crowd."

Midori's friends are nice people, he knows that. They're always welcoming when he comes along, and do a good job of not letting it show when they don't quite know what to do with him. It could be good to meet up, sometimes he really enjoys it.

"Let me think about it," he says.

 

#### Wednesday 10 September

"You have no right to say that," Matsura says to Toyoda over the cluttered desk. "You just don't understand." Her disdain is not so much well-acted as simply unleashed, but Kame grants it is effective. "He—" Matsura turns towards Kame who is standing there with his stack of poetry books and flashes him a winning, too-winning smile, "tries to find the good in my brother but you just want academic achievement." And back she is to Toyoda, spitting her contempt. "You have no _heart_ , and no time for anyone who doesn't meet your phony standards. You should never have been a teacher!"

Utter conviction in this one, and Toyoda can read the subtext, too. She stays in character, though, doesn't look any more upset than her no-nonsense physics teacher is meant to be by an irrational outburst, and exchanges the scripted wry look with Kame as Matsura turns and sweeps out of the chipwood construction that is the teachers' common room; only then does she sag a little.

Kame sighs. That'll be a re-take. Matsura's character is supposed to be grateful to him, not come on to him.

"Matsura-chan," Iijima is calling, and she goes over and there is some quiet discussion. He won't criticize _her_ openly. "Okay, folks," he then shouts, "try again. Good on the first few lines, Matsura-chan, and the exit was splendid. Toyoda-san, are you all right or would you like to rest a little before we do another take?"

Fukushima, whose only role in this take is to stand there and look wise while the underlings battle it out, snorts quietly.

"Thank you kindly," Toyoda says, "but it is unnecessary."

"We wouldn't want you to wear yourself out."

Toyoda nods politely. "Thank you for your consideration. I'll let you know if there is any danger of that."

She's holding up, but she's showing the strain – and who wouldn't.

When the take is done, and Kame has a break, he takes her aside and gets her agreement; then he calls his agent, persuades her that this is important, discusses with her what he's going to say, and leaves further arrangements with her. The Arts & Entertainment desk of Asahi Shinbun calls him back five minutes later.

*~*~*

"You're going to cover it with a _hat_ , Kazuya," Midori calls from the hall. "I'm sure every strand doesn't have to be perfect before you ruin it all again."

Kame scowls at his mirror image in the brightly lit bathroom and turns away. "Point," he says, loud enough for her to hear.

When he comes out he finds her waiting, looking fresh and natural and not made up at all, though he knows she is, he's learned enough about make-up over the years. She's simply good at this, at being the unpretentious girl next door, somebody you want to be friends with. She always has been, right from the start when they were still wannabe stars together. Kame is sure he looked more artificial than she, back then. He probably still does.

He smiles at her. "You look great."

She smiles back. "The ogling kind of gave it away."

"Sorry," he says, illogically, feeling bad because that wasn't what it was, even if she can't know about it.

They take a cab because they'll be drinking. The play, a community initiative for deprived families, is staged in a primary school a couple of suburbs over. Midori is reading the small home-printed program, laughing quietly at the quirky picture Enoki-chan chose of herself. Kame's phone rings halfway there, Tanaka's number, but he screens it with a brief shrug at Midori; it's not the right time, and he's not ready to set up a meeting, anyway.

Enoki-san welcomes them delightedly, hugs Kame without self-consciousness, and directs them to the buffet, set up on wobbly school desks with some large white paper sheets thrown over them. Midori is quickly surrounded by people who want to get her opinion or advice on any one of the things she's involved in, or just talk to her. Kame tries the wine and it is exactly as Midori promised; he avoids the pastries. If she'd said something beforehand he could have made sure they wouldn't be quite so horrible, but she does her own thing.

He watches her laugh with her friends and is glad for her. Then another tag-along husband snatches him and he fakes his way through a half-hour conversation about Japan's chances for the soccer world cup qualifier until finally they head into the auditorium which serves as the theater.

He likes sitting in the dark.

*~*~*

It's experimental right enough. But the audience seems to like it. Kame wonders what they're seeing that he doesn't.

On the stage, two women in cooking aprons are arguing about censored school books. He doesn't know what the child dressed up as a goat is doing there. He ought to pay more attention. But it's just not his thing – and it isn't the kind of 'not his thing' which he mysteriously finds himself enjoying anyway, and then spends days trying to figure out.

It was good; he won't deny that.

The man is attractive – very attractive, when his cocky attitude can't interfere with what he's there for, when he's under no illusions that Kame cares about his opinions, when he just does as he's told.

Shame it had to be so difficult to _get_ him there, but at least it was worthwhile this time, he didn't let himself be rattled, knew what he wanted, and maybe that's the key with someone like that, to make it good, and… yes, that was good indeed, once he got down to business, got in close, when warm skin and friction and heat lived up to what that body promised.

And if the escort had just done his job properly from the start, he could have had an easier time of it, or if he hadn't opened his mouth or looked at him with that provocative… something, that way of being all distracting eyes and clumsy meddling that Kame doesn't need, least of all from someone he's paying for a service. If the man needs to be shown who's in charge, Kame can do that, and he's made that perfectly clear, too. It even turned out more arousing than expected.

And he can stop thinking about it now; he's made his point and he had a very good time, got it out of his system, that man and the things he makes Kame want to do which he never wanted to do before. Made him want to do, because it's over.

Two salarymen have appeared on the stage, carrying briefcases, rushing back and forth as if to catch a train, complaining about their activist wives and how nobody has their dinner ready when they come home. They run off at last, accompanied by train noises, and the aproned women reappear (no goat this time) to confront a man dressed as a samurai who, Kame gathers, is meant to represent the minister for education. A long discussion follows.

Slowly, he stretches his legs out under the seat in front of him, careful not to kick any handbags or dropped coats. Good thing he didn't drive; the darkness is making him a little drowsy.

He's looking forward to his next appointment with Tatsuya, whenever that will be – good wine, good conversation and the right sexual chemistry, no rush and no strange experiments… He doesn't go to the club looking to be new and edgy, he doesn't need weird thrills or someone like Jin, who may be beautiful when he's all spread out for Kame to touch wherever he likes and make him shiver—

There is applause and quickly, he claps his hands together, too. On stage, somebody wearing a cooking apron is, apparently, dead.

*~*~*

"You didn't like it," Midori remarks in the cab on the way home, but she doesn't sound upset.

Kame remembers to take off the hat. He didn't wear the shades on the way out. He would have felt silly in front of Midori's friends, and it's not such a terrible secret, going to a community play with your wife. "I was a little distracted," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm sure it's very good. It'll make people think."

"True," she says. "But our next date can be a comedy film and traditional food afterwards." She smiles at him warmly, before she huffs out a breath and rolls one shoulder. "With better chairs, too," she adds, and Kame laughs.

He wonders if he should try to draw the evening out a little, to turn it into another romantic night. It's been two days since… since that other thing, the thing that's over… and he's sure he could manage. In fact, the way he suddenly feels a little hot seems to bode very well for that.

But Midori is suppressing a yawn, and then she says, "I'm going to regret this a bit, tomorrow. But it was worth it. Enoki-chan was really happy. And it _is_ a good play."

So Kame just nods, agrees again, leans back. He wonders how the interview will play.

"When do you have to be in town tomorrow?"

It should be interesting on the set. "Not until lunchtime," he says. "I was going to drop in at the agency beforehand, but I can always call them and have them send somebody out to the set."

"Are you filming late then?"

That depends on a lot of things. He doesn't expect miracles from his chat with Asahi. "Could be," he says. "We have a complicated scene coming up. Someone's getting pushed into a pool."

Midori smiles again. "You don't want to have to do too many retakes."

"No." He could take the bag, just in case, but… "I'm coming home, though," he adds. He doesn't have to be at the apartment with time on his hands. He doesn't need to make another appointment this soon, he's not someone who has to grab at opportunities.

"You sure?" Midori asks, pausing to fight another yawn. "You'll sleep more if you don't have the drive."

"Yes. Friday's going to be a light day." He thinks so, anyway, and he feels oddly relieved. "I'll be home."

 

### Thursday 11 September

"One, two."

The TV is on mute already, flashing silent images of chatty newscasters across the empty bar. Jin stops squinting up into the corner for the text crawl once the soccer feed is past, and brings the stool around a bit, propping up an elbow on the dark and still reasonably clean surface of the bar.

"Little elephant, little elephant, you have a long long nose…"

It's not a fancy place, nothing polished and classy about it like the club, the smell of spilled drink and cigarettes clinging stubbornly to cracks in the old wooden floor and the worn upholstery of the seats even an hour before opening time, when the doors and windows are wide open. Jin likes it here.

He takes a sip of cold beer and wipes the condensation off on his jeans before he leans over for the small stack of newspapers that will be left out for the guests, and pulls the top one towards him. He got the first beer cheap, at staff price. That was a really nice gesture, since he doesn't do all that much, just comes in early to hang out and shuffle the odd crate around if they need an extra pair of hands.

"…my mother has a long nose too…."

It's only the second time he's done this, too. But he's here almost every Thursday night, and it's not as if he has much to do with his afternoons on his day off, except be glad he doesn't have to be at the club.

On his left, the sound of heavy equipment being dragged over rough wood is complemented by mumbled swearing, and Jin looks over, but the two tech guys are deep in thought over some plugs and aren't looking for his help. He flips open the paper, skims the sports section, but it's a Thursday and he's not going to read the depressing speculations about the future of Tokyo Verdy before they've played their weekend game. It's way too early in the season to talk about relegation again, anyway.

He hears voices through the door behind the bar, where the office is, loud enough to compete with the random noises outside, but not angry. He doesn't think Tomo-kun is in trouble. It's the one of his jobs Tomo really enjoys, so he works really hard here at the bar. He told Jin that two weeks ago, the first time they sat around for a slow hour and just chatted.

The music section leads with an article on Metallica and their new album. Jin has followed the story about the leaked songs. Today he almost flips past it for some reason, but he is curious, and he still likes their music even though it was Naoki's to begin with.

They rode out to hear them at Summer Sonic that year even though they had no money for tickets, had barely enough left of what Naoki made for them to keep the motorcycle moving. They camped out on the parking lot of a supermarket that was just outside the fences, and Naoki bought him beer and told him what the songs were when the distance and the screaming fans turned the music to noise.

They never had any money. But that was still a good summer.

It's an odd review though, talking about all kinds of weird theoretical stuff and the future of record labels in general when what Jin wants to know about is the new songs and what they're going to be like.

So he turns the page, and feels something cold and uncomfortable rush through him at the picture of Kamenashi, looking out at him from next to a long article, all bright smile and determined eyes.

It takes him a moment before the article headline comes into focus. 'New Leading Couple: Kamenashi Kazuya Praises Rising Co-Star.' There are two more pictures, smaller, a studio picture of a pretty woman looking a little nervous and an alleged candid shot of the two of them, smiling at each other with a camera and an overhead microphone hovering at the edge of the frame.

So that's Kamenashi's clean, appropriate love interest for his clean, hopeful film. If his league of housewife fans had any idea what the guy gets up to in his spare time—

Wrong turn. Wrong, _wrong_ turn, he doesn't need this. This is his day off, he doesn't want to think about Kamenashi and what Kamenashi gets up to and might want to get up to in the future. No, he just wants Kamenashi to go back and be happy with Tatsuya, who seems to like him so very much, and he can leave Jin the fuck alone.

Three days, and he hasn't heard anything about any new appointments. But he hasn't asked.

He scans the article anyway, because it's just an article and it's not like it's going to hurt him. He wants to see the humour in the situation, Kamenashi promoting his family-friendly image, the gushing words he has for his pretty young co-star – _'I can only congratulate the casting director for his judgement, it's an absolute pleasure to be working with Toyoda-san'_ and _'…looking forward to all of our scenes, we're really building these characters up together…'_ – and maybe Jin has a hard time finding any of this funny but at some point – ' _…it's admirable how hard she works and never lets her pregnancy interfere with her responsibilities, and I'm so glad she decided to stay with the project. I wish her and her new family all the best…_ ' – he manages some disdain and that's better than anything else he feels when he thinks of Kamenashi, and then he decides that that's enough of happily pregnant hard-working women and secretly crazy assholes. He flips the paper shut, folds it up neatly, and puts it back. Then he has a long drink of his beer.

"Little elephant, little— _fuck_!" The melody gets cut off by a metallic screech, and Jin turns with the stool. One of the tech dudes, the one who wears a different ancient Slayer t-shirt every time Jin sees him, is glaring at the microphone. "I can't hear a damn thing from up here anyway."

"The sound's okay from the bar," Jin offers. "Want me to go sit in the back and listen from there?"

Slayer guy looks him up and down, then sighs. "No, I'd better do that. You could come up here and make some noises, though."

"Sure, no problem," Jin says, unhooking his feet from the metal footrest. He puts his beer down just as the door behind the bar opens and the manager comes out, followed by a slightly harassed-looking Tomo.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" the manager says to him, resting his snappy leather briefcase on the stool at the end of the bar, and Tomo nods dutifully, bows, and watches his boss leave through the wide-open door before he rolls his eyes a little and sighs.

Tomo's as tall as Jin but sturdier, more solid, not like someone who's just started to lose the hungry street look. He's a few years older, too, though with his big round eyes he can look like a lost kid, particularly on days when work and worry are piling up again.

He turns to Jin, and they share a small smile about nothing in particular. Bosses, maybe; Jin doesn't think about it too deeply, just lets it slide.

"Are you working here Fridays now, too?" he asks.

Tomo shakes his head. "No, just this week," he says, eyes wandering back to the open door with an expression of doom. "He left me with the _inventory_." After a moment, he digs his set of keys out of a pocket and turns to lock the office door.

"I was just going to help with the sound check," Jin says. "Anything else I could do?"

Tomo looks over to where Slayer guy is adjusting the third microphone to guitar height. The stage isn't that big, but sometimes people perform in sets of three or four. Jin thinks it must be fun to have a band like that, but he's still new here, is just starting to tell the Thursday night regulars from those that wander in randomly for the Open Mic.

"Are they still not done?" Tomo asks with a plaintive note. "What's the problem? We do this once a _week_."

He looks so stressed that Jin really wants to say something reassuring, but he doesn't understand the tech and doesn't really know if this is normal.

"Well," Tomo says eventually. "If you could help them out, that would be great."

Jin is more than happy to. With instructions from Slayer guy he gets on the stage, his hair flipping lightly into his eyes because he didn't bother to style it right, and sings a few verses as prompted by the tech guys, and in the end they get it sorted with half an hour to go before opening.

Then he helps Tomo carry some more wine out of storage, and goes to take down the chairs from the tables at the far end, where it's not old sofas and armchairs.

His phone rings in his back pocket when he's just finished distributing new ashtrays on the tables. He sees it's Ootomo's office before he flips it open, and tries not to think about what it could be for fear it'll show on his face.

"Jin." It is Ootomo.

"One moment," he says, excusing himself with a brief look at Tomo, who nods understandingly, and he gets out fast before he gives himself away with anything, prompts questions he doesn't want asked in this place.

Ootomo doesn't speak until Jin is outside and on the other side of the parking lot. Discretion extends to the whores. "I'm outside," he says, coming to a stop between a small yellow city car and Tomo's ancient van. "And alone."

"Good," Ootomo says. "Can you go see a client tonight? Tadayoshi came down with something and it would be the second time we'd cancel on Kato-sama. Tadayoshi said he might like you."

He's heard the name. Might have seen him at the club but they've never spoken, and Jin feels a bit thrown. It's his day off. His one day where he doesn't have to deal with… "Tonight?" he repeats slowly.

"Yes."

Jin stares at the flecks of rust around the edges of Tomo's bumper. "I don't know," he says vaguely. Something in him goes tight when he thinks of the singing and then thinks of dressing up, fixing his hair just so, maybe wearing the lip gloss. "I made plans."

A second van rumbles into the lot, green and rickety, its back window covered with a multi-coloured variety of stickers.

"We all make plans, plans change," Ootomo says nonsensically, and he sounds stressed. "I need someone to go and meet this guy, but the place is bursting and nobody wants to go, they're all hoping for a rest or something, deluded bitches."

Jin knows the guys getting out of the van by sight, has seen them play. They're starting to unload a drum set, and he pulls in his shoulders, holds the phone close even though they're far enough away. "I…" He can hear Ootomo's impatient sigh and swallows uncomfortably. Maybe he should just give when he's going to anyway, and save himself pissing Ootomo off any further.

But then Ootomo surprises him, sounds almost understanding. "Look. Jin. I know it's your day off. I'm not going to make you go. But you don't exactly have a fantastic track record with making the clients come back for more, so if I'm offering you an easy comfort with an uncomplicated client… I'd think about it, if I were you."

"Did somebody— Did anything happen? Has anyone said—" Nobody said anything to him; nobody seemed unhappy. And if it was Kamenashi he can't believe he went to that appointment and let that _freak_ do all that… all that _stuff_ and it still got him in trouble with Ootomo, and he wants to be angry but mostly he's afraid. "Was Kamenashi-san not satisfied?"

"I think you managed not to offend him this time around," Ootomo says curtly. "I called him about you, and let's just say he was kind. But he didn't want to book you again, either, that much was clear."

It takes a moment to sink in because this… is more than he'd dared hope for. "It was clear?" he asks. "I mean, you asked him? And it was clear?"

"Pretty damn clear, yes."

"Are you sure?"

Now Ootomo's voice turns strict. "Jin, let it go. Play in your own league."

Kamenashi isn't interested in booking him again. Thank _fuck_. "Sure," Jin mumbles through the relief, and, "I'm sorry," for good measure.

Ootomo grunts his forgiveness, then asks, "Well? What about Kato-sama?"

"Sure," Jin says again. He doesn't care. He'd go with Nakai again and watch his biker porn with him, _gladly_ , if he doesn't have to go see Kamenashi again.

"At eleven," Ootomo says, his tone surprised but pleased. "I'm glad to hear it, Jin. It's noted."

Yeah, yeah, whatever. "Hotel or house?" Hotel would be better, being at clients' houses when you've never talked to them before is always weird. "I don't…" He pats down his jeans, but no. "I don't have anything to write."

Ootomo sighs. "It's the Park Hyatt, room 232. But I'll e-mail that to you. You can take a taxi, we'll pay for it."

That's nice. "Thank you very much," he says obligingly. "I won't let you down." He hangs up, and feels like he's taking his first free breath in days. It's over.

He says hi to the band guys on his way back to the entrance, and they smile at him, seem to recognize him too. Stepping into the bar, he forces himself to get past the urge to celebrate and _think_ ; about scheduling, when he'll have to leave to stop by his apartment, ten minutes away if he walks fast, and be at the Park Hyatt on time.

Eleven means he could still do his song, if they let him go on early. Normally he wouldn't, he doesn't like the idea of mixing it up, an evening like this and then going to see a client afterwards, but he doesn't care. He can do his song, like every week, and it's going to be fun and then he can do an easy, uncomplicated client and it's not going to matter, and he doesn't have to go back to Kamenashi, ever again.

Jin tells Tomo he has to leave early for a work thing, and Tomo purses his lips and sucks in his cheeks, which makes him look boyish again, and he gives him a sympathetic nod and doesn't pry. He's nice that way. He also knows all about work hassle, with the three jobs he's juggling that still don't quite add up to a living.

"Can you stick around for your number?" he asks instead. "It would be a real shame if you couldn't, people would miss you." He smiles.

The compliment feels weird with all the things Jin's not telling him. But he has done the calculations by now, and can answer that part. "I should get going around nine."

"Oh, good! You have to go on then!"

Jin can't help smiling back. "Yeah, I'd like that," he says. "That's cool."

He should aim for eight-thirty, Tomo says, because it should be busy enough by then, and Jin agrees. He buys them both a beer when they sit down at the empty bar and he tells Tomo about his song while they watch the drum set being put together in the corner of the stage.

"I can watch the bar if you want to take a turn after me," he says, because he doesn't know when Tomo's girlfriend will come in tonight, to help out, and he's happy when Tomo says yes because Tomo enjoys the singing too. "I don't have to leave before nine," he repeats, smiling again, not caring. He doesn't… yeah. It's all good.


	6. Chapter 6

### Wednesday 17 September

As far as hopeful and inspiring campaigns go, Kame has done worse. Having successfully evaded Iijima's petulant attempts to set him up on a lunch date with Matsura, he's made himself almost comfortable in a folding chair in a corner of the set, for all the world to see that he's working. He's reading the mission statement of his latest project, and he finds some of it… well. Inspiring would be the word, but all right. Why shouldn't he?

He scans the list of his co-campaigners and thinks he's also done smaller. Some of the names leave him impressed, and that's before he comes across Fujikage Sanako, and just smiles. They'll probably never have anything to do with each other, but it's a nice idea anyway, being involved in something together again. Kame doesn't even have to be terrified of her anymore.

Over in the head teacher's office, Morioka and Fukushima are doing an important scene that consists largely of silences, and the shoot is quiet even between takes, partly not to pull the actors out too much and partly because the camera crew have to work some magic around the giant bruise Morioka is inconveniently sporting on the left side of his face, the result of a messed up fight choreography the day before, and everyone is a little tense. Make-up could only do so much.

Kame checks his phone on the sly, since it's set to silent anyway. He's waiting to hear whether he's supposed to pick Midori up from work because she said she had things to carry. But there's no message from her.

There's another one from Tanaka, though, about drinks and meeting up. Between his schedule and being sidetracked by Jin, it's true Kame hasn't been to the club in a while, and he likes the place, for more than just the physical release when he takes an escort to a suite. He enjoys being there, unwinding with the other guests, not looking over his shoulder all the time.

It would be nice if he and Tanaka could get their schedules to match for the next visit. Maybe not this week, but soon.

The noise level rises after all; Iijima must be satisfied with the scene. Good for him. Since the article came out last week, he's made a point of being politely unimpressed with most things Kame does. Kame only added insult to injury by not being in the least repentant.

Half a minute later Fukushima and Morioka come strolling over, Morioka wearing a polite face while Fukushima tells him some story or other. The make-up makes the bruise look even more horrible, like something is growing under his skin waiting to hatch.

Morioka interprets his gaze correctly and grins. "Impressive, huh?"

"What did you _do_?" Kame asks, slightly stunned, because he's gotten his share of slaps and punches over the years and he's never looked like this.

Fukushima makes the face he always makes when he's about to go off on a variation of his 'junior colleagues and work ethics' theme, but Morioka doesn't care, just smiles at them both. "I'd like to say the other guy looks worse, but I think you would catch me out."

"Kobi-kun did seem a little contrite this morning," Kame says.

Morioka manages to be mostly straight-faced. "I swear he's tougher than he looks."

Fukushima seems to have no idea what to do with them, and shuffles off, saying something about leaving the young men alone.

"Anything good?" Morioka asks with a nod to the brochure on Kame's knees. It's only a draft, really, stapled together instead of properly bound.

"Just a campaign my agency signed me up for," he says. "Public awareness campaign, I mean. You know the sort of thing."

"Oh, yeah," Morioka nods. "I've seen you in spots before."

Kame tenses a little, irrationally; it's not as if he's embarrassed by his work. But Morioka doesn't comment any further on what he's seen or not.

"So more shooting for you after we're done here?"

"No, just this. It's a light day." He has three scenes scheduled: a solo scene, a short encounter with Fukushima's head teacher and then a slightly more intense one with Toyoda and Morioka, and that'll be it.

"For me too. I'm finishing with you and Toyoda-san," Morioka says. "Nice to get off early."

"I have to stay in the city. My wife is working late and said she might want a ride home." He folds up the brochure and gets up.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" Morioka asks. "If you have to wait around…" He trails off, maybe realizing that Kame is a senior colleague.

A senior colleague who is kind of pleased and thinks this is a really nice idea. "Sure. That sounds good."

"Cool," Morioka says, rubbing his neck in a slightly self-conscious gesture, and he stops with a flinch when he catches the thick layer of concealer on his chin. "Oh, _right_."

Kame tries not to smile while Morioka is examining the make-up he just managed to smear on his hand.

"Better get myself fixed up," he says with a guilty little shake of his head.

"You've got time," Kame tells him. "I'm up next."

He watches Morioka leave and his thoughts stray back to the club for a moment. Some other week he might have dropped in there, just to pass the time where people know him, _not_ for… he never would, not if he's meeting Midori after. But he's not in the mood for chats and gossip in the lounge, either.

He'll have dinner with a friendly colleague, and that's better in any number of ways.

*~*~*

Something happens during his solo scene – not a first for him but the first for this production, and maybe it's all the silences today. Iijima clears the set of distractions and keeps it quiet again for Kame in the tiny cubicle that is Seiji's office, where he takes a phone call from Toyoda— no, from Shoda the physics teacher, and he sinks past understanding the role, past being good at the role. Toyoda isn't even present. It's just a silent receiver but he hears it anyway, _feels_ it anyway, loud and clear.

Stage magic.

He's restless with frustration even when they bring him water afterwards and a different set of clothes, still caught up in the sheer drive that keeps this man together, and then he does the scene again and it's different angles and accents and exactly the same sense of _fitting_.

It carries over into the exchange with Fukushima, which is almost a breather, someone who is on Seiji's side, whom he doesn't have to convince of anything, and it's still there when he confronts Toyoda, their youthful charge watching on the sidelines, and everything is sharp and fraught and perfect.

He _gets_ why Seiji finds her so abrasive and infuriating and still can't leave it alone because if he can convince _her_ , it'll mean… it could mean everything, and then her scepticism seems to burn him and he knows, for once, they will be great together.

It's easy with Morioka too, but then it's always easy with Morioka, and the whole scene is coming together flawlessly, all three of them, they do it once; twice; a last time where Morioka cranks up the volume and Toyoda's voice drops to a whisper when she confronts Kame's rage, and the two are the ideal complement to each other.

When the cut comes, Morioka and Toyoda are smiling at each other. Kame just needs a moment.

The crew start milling around, and the boys are hassling Morioka about his bruised face, and Kame stands and waits as he feels all that intense emotion falling away from him. Moments like these, he loves his job.

"Good work, Kamenashi-san. Toyoda-san. Morioka-san." It's the first time today that Iijima has said more than he had to to Kame, the first time he said anything favourable.

Maybe this was what they needed, Kame thinks when he looks at Toyoda, who looks like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. If they can keep this going…

"Glad to see we're getting somewhere besides newspapers," Iijima is muttering, ostensibly to his assistant; he doesn't sound glad, but they've had to deal with worse from him.

And now Toyoda is sagging, too, not coming off the high like Kame, but maybe coming off the stress, the constant pressure, and if Kame didn't have much positive feedback all week, she's been going without it pretty much since she told them she was pregnant.

Morioka is simply happy. And, he says, hungry. "I can be ready in ten; five if I didn't have to get this gunk out of my face."

"Would you like to come along?" Kame asks Toyoda spontaneously. "Morioka-kun and I are going out for dinner."

"Hey, yes!" Morioka says, and smiles at her. "That would be great."

"Oooh, teacher-student romance," Genda says in a half-whisper, and Morioka swats him, saying he's a tough delinquent and he's not afraid to prove it, just look at his face. Even Toyoda can't help a grin.

"That would be some _useful_ publicity," Iijima comments, eyeing Kame and Toyoda as if they can't hear him. "For our great leading couple."

"Well, at least we got a spark going _there_ now, too," Iijima's assistant says in a lowered voice. Not meanly, and she's only echoing Kame's own thoughts but it sounds different out of someone else's mouth, almost like… but she can't mean that.

"How about it?" Kame asks Toyoda, but she just looks guilty when she wavers, too tired to say yes but too grateful to Kame to say no, and Kame feels a bit embarrassed. He lets her off the hook with a friendly smile and a promise of some other time.

Morioka looks at him. "Slightly less useful, huh?"

Kame knows it's funny. He just doesn't feel like laughing, and he wishes they could just have had _dinner_ , without thinking about useful or romance or press; why isn't that possible anywhere outside— why isn't that possible?

It's not Morioka's fault, of course, or anybody's, it's just the way things are and he gets himself together.

"Ten minutes?" Morioka is repeating, and Kame smiles.

"Race you," he says smoothly. "First one out gets to decide where to go."

*~*~*

Morioka eyes the katsudon with an uncharacteristically pouty expression before he decides to go with chicken teriyaki.

"I play a seventeen-year-old," he explains when they sit down on cheap but gleaming metal chairs. It's a sparse, modern restaurant; fake marble easy-clean floor, chrome fittings, a black vase with a single fake autumn gingko twig on every table. Good food and good prices and no frills. "I don't burnit like a seventeen-year-old." He grins wryly. "I tend to go chunky by nature these days. And then I look old, they tell me."

Kame has never had that problem; weight just doesn't stick, and they tend to age him up for his roles anyway. But Morioka looks relaxed enough about it.

"Just wait till you get to be my age," Kame ventures, and they both laugh.

A waitress comes up to take their order, and Kame chooses the chicken teriyaki set, too.

It's not very busy yet and they have a corner to themselves, several empty tables between them and a cluster of occupied ones, an illusion at least of privacy.

Morioka has noticed the way he habitually checks the newcomers and where they go. "Looks like nobody wants to get near us," he says, aptly, as a newly arrived couple chooses to sit in the busier section of the restaurant, too. "Between my face and your camouflage, we're probably scaring them."

Kame blushes a bit; it's not as if he likes the fuss. He just knows how these things work, the things you have to do to get people to leave you in peace. But Morioka's right, they make quite a pair.

"Sunglasses aren't scary," he protests, but he smiles.

Morioka gives him an assessing look, a sweep up and down with some over-the-top youthful rebel attitude. "You're right," he says, mock-pitying. "You look harmless, I'm the bad-ass here. You could be my social worker." He thinks his theory through some more. "Who just happens to have a sun allergy. Uh, indoors."

Kame catches himself at a very undignified snort.

Then their food arrives, and the waitress stays near Kame's side of the table as she rearranges the gingko stick and the napkin holder, sets down their bowls and plates. She doesn't make eye contact and seems to be in a hurry to get away from them.

"See?" Morioka says, managing to swagger even while sitting in a chair. "I'm tough, man."

Kame laughs out loud just as his phone starts buzzing. He fumbles it out of his pocket while Morioka raises his eyebrows with a pointed look at the food; Kame nods and tries to signal an apology for the interruption when he answers Midori.

She apologizes for only calling him so late, but she was in a meeting.

"It's not a problem," he says, and she can probably still hear the laughter in his voice. "I'm having dinner with a colleague."

"Oh, that's wonderful," Midori says, pleased for him. "Take your time, I have things I can finish here."

Kame admits he's glad to hear it. From the happy look on Morioka's face, the teriyaki tastes as good as it smells. "Okay," he says, quickly thinking through distances and traffic. "I could be there in about an hour?" Midori says it's fine, and to enjoy his dinner.

"Is that okay?" Morioka asks him when he's pressed the off button. "We could just eat faster. How long to get there?"

"Twenty minutes. We can finish in peace." He puts the phone away and takes the lid off the miso soup to take a sip.

"Where does your wife work?"

"Zoom4Star," Kame says. "It's a casting agency, based near Tokyo Central."

Morioka looks intrigued. "Casting agency? Is that how you met?"

"No," Kame says, picking up his chopsticks, and elaborates, "She was an actress, too, before she started this. We met on a film set."

"Romantic," Morioka says with a smile. "Maybe on my next film, I'll start looking around too. Not really any candidates in this one."

A man with standards. Kame smiles. "Matsura-san is not your type, I take it."

The face Morioka makes encapsulates everything Kame thinks about Matsura and her charming ways, too. "Besides," Morioka says as he picks up the bowl with boiled rice, "I think Iijima thinks he's got dibs."

Kame grimaces, too, and shrugs a little.

"I don't get what's up with them and Toyoda-san, anyway," Morioka says. "I mean, what did they expect her to do?"

"Get an abortion," Kame says instantly. "Or drop out of the production. It's getting a bit too late to recast her but they can still cut down her parts." It's kind of nice to put it this bluntly. Even with Toyoda, he's always just known, never said it.

"That's not fair. She's good in the role."

"She is." After today, Kame is sure of it.

Morioka's had the same thought. "That was great today, wasn't it?" he beams. "We were so good!" Then it's his turn to blush a bit, but Kame just grins and agrees. They were.

For a short while they concentrate on eating. The chicken is juicy and the sauce is just spicy enough, and they are both hungry. Kame polishes off his cabbage in a few minutes while Morioka picks away at his, trying to get some shreds out from underneath the layer of mayonnaise.

"Should have asked them to leave it off," he says, resigned. "I keep forgetting." He drags out a piece or two before he gives up.

"So, your campaign," Morioka says when Kame has moved on to the watermelon and talking becomes easier again. "What's it about?" He's eyeing the remains of his rice with a conflicted expression, and Kame is amused despite the serious change of subject.

"Bullying in schools," he says.

"Hm." Morioka looks at him thoughtfully, then has one last mouthful of rice before setting the bowl down off to the side. "Topical."

"It's been an issue for a long time, I guess." Kame lowers his hand so the watermelon juice doesn't run down his arms. "But more and more pupils are simply not going to school any more because of it." His brochure told him that; children who stay at home, parents who let them.

"Any particular reason you're involved?" Morioka asks, and Kame knows what he means though if he wanted, he could pretend not to, and technically the answer is, 'My agent thought it would be a good idea.'

"It wasn't bad, but yeah, a bit," he says. "I looked weird, all arms and legs and caterpillar eyebrows." Morioka grins, then tries to hide it guiltily. "It stopped when they noticed I was a decent pitcher," Kame says. "You?"

Morioka looks sheepish. "I cried every night of my first week in middle school. And then I hit the guy really hard and got suspended for all of the second week. After that, it was okay." He reaches for his own dessert. "It shouldn't be like that. You shouldn't have to pitch well or hit people just to get them to lay off you. I think this is a good campaign. Let me know if I can do anything."

"I will," Kame says. He's finished his food, checks his watch. He'll have time for another cup of tea so he signals the waitress.

"You've got a good line-up?" Morioka asks.

"Yes. We've even got Fujikage-san."

"Boy." Morioka sounds awed. "Think she was bullied?"

Kame tries to imagine it and can't. "She's always been into good causes. And she really likes to help people out, she helped me a lot when I started, even if I was too scared of her to actually realize it then."

"You've worked with her before?"

" _The Water House_. Six years ago. I was totally green behind the ears, it was my first big-screen film."

Morioka looks a little embarrassed. "I don't think I've heard of it."

"It was an independent production. Low budget, but we had a great time making it." They'd all been so passionate about it.

The waitress comes to put a new cup of tea in front of him, and Kame leans back to let her clear away plates and bowls.

Morioka waits until she has left before he asks, "Low budget and you got Fujikage-san?"

She'd possibly been the most passionate of all. "She was really invested in it. I think somebody she cared about cared about it, something like that. I wouldn't like to stand in her way when she's determined." To this day Kame is glad that his agency let him do it even though the pay was a joke, even though it didn't fit in with their plans for Kame as a romantic hero. He'd been so happy, feeling himself grow into the challenge, a great role and wonderful colleagues, and Midori's friendship, new and uncomplicated.

"I met my wife on that set," he says to Morioka.

"You've been married for six years?"

"No," Kame says. "No, we were just friends at the start." He can't help smiling. "We bonded over being scared of Fujikage-san during our first take with her."

They'd talked each other through their nervousness, and then giggled about it afterwards even though nothing spectacular had happened at all.

"I would have been, too!" Morioka says, and Kame isn't so sure, but maybe even Morioka's easygoing, unselfconscious manner would take a hit in the presence of the grand lady.

"She'll be good for this campaign," he says, thinking of her no-nonsense approach and the way she'll stand up to anybody at all. "Maybe I should introduce Toyoda-san to her."

"Maybe you've already made yourself unpopular enough with the guys who run this production," Morioka says, and then he looks like he did earlier, like maybe he wonders if he's stepped out of line, and Kame just laughs.

"I guess I have," he says.

 

### Saturday 20 September

The gym's always busy on a Saturday. It starts at eleven when the guys who stayed overnight on rests have seen their clients off, or the ones who got stuck in town on comforts crawl out of the dormitory. Then it's a steady trickle, because everybodyworks on a Saturday, and unless you've got a pre-booked outside appointment, it makes sense to come in a few hours before opening time and make use of the club's state-of-the-art equipment.

When Jin gets in at two, wearing sweatpants and a tank top under his hoodie, it's not too bad: there's Junno and Tatsuya and Tadayoshi, and over on the sit-up board is Shingo, just rising and picking up his water bottle to move on. Shota isn't around, which is strange, because he's always here at this time. Maybe he got a surprise appointment.

Jin nods at Tatsuya, who nods back from the lat machine without stopping the repeats. Junno has his nose against the mat in a stretching move, but Tadayoshi gives a little wave from the treadmill.

Jin sits down on the leg curl two machines over from Tatsuya and adjusts the pins. You can always tell when Satoshi used a machine last, because the weights are set pathetically low. He must have just missed him.

Jin's halfway through the second set of repetitions, eyes on the office building beyond the tinted windows because the two TVs are set to a boring drama on mute, when Shingo waves all round and leaves. He holds the door open for Jaejoong, whose hair is held back with a Naruto sweatband. Behind him follows Yuuya, looking even younger than usual in a baggy t-shirt and next to Jaejoong's height, enthusiastically repeating Korean pick-up lines.

Jin vaguely remembers learning those about six weeks ago, but the English Danny taught him stuck in his head a little better. Korean is Korean, English is cool. Not that he'd use it, even on their foreign clients, because he doesn't need to embarrass himself horribly in front of the vice-president of somewhere important and he's probably better off not causing an international incident.

"Jin-senpai!" Yuuya lights up when he sees him, and excuses himself from the language class with a quick bow.

Jaejoong shoots Jin an amused glance.

"I didn't forget my own water this time!" Yuuya announces cheerfully when he gets to Jin, holding up a small plastic bottle with the label peeled off.

Jin slides his legs out from under the roller pad and turns sideways, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He smiles at Yuuya; there's no way not to when he looks this eager. "I really didn't mind," he reassures him.

"Please don't stop because of me!" Yuuya says immediately, but Jin waves him off, and Yuuya stops fretting.

Jin has gathered that Yuuya isn't so into sports, though he likes the gym for the social aspect and does the necessary minimum without complaining. He used to like soccer back in primary school, Jin's heard him say, before he ran away from home. His reason for supporting Frontale when the guys are watching matches on TV is that he finds their dolphin mascot cute.

Yuuya's clean new indoor sneakers scratch along the rough carpet when he leans against the beam of the chin-dip station. "How was your Friday night, Jin-senpai?"

"It was a Friday," he says easily. "I did okay." A comfort would have been better, but the two relaxations he got were fine, uncomplicated.

"I had Suzuki-san for comfort," Yuuya reports.

"Yeah," Jin says, making a face. Jin's had Suzuki, too. Most everybody has had Suzuki because no-one particularly wants him twice. "I saw him chat you up, but Tsukada was in the middle of telling me this story which was supposed to be funny, and I couldn't get to you in time."

It's not that Suzuki is a bastard, not like some, and unlike some he doesn't have weird requirements, either; it's just that his ideas of personal hygiene aren't the same as those of the guy who has to blow him.

"It was okay," Yuuya says brightly. "Tatsuya-san helped me out."

Tatsuya, standing now and towelling off sweat, turns at the mention of his name, and Yuuya gives him a bow followed by a cheerful little wave. "Thank you very much," he says, raising his voice a little more. "It worked out very well."

Tatsuya nods acknowledgement, but doesn't seem eager to pursue the matter.

"He made up a little story to take me aside," Yuuya says to Jin, and now Tatsuya looks faintly embarrassed, "and warned me to get Suzuki-san to clean up first, that it would help. He was right, it helped a lot."

"You got him to do it?" Jin tried both times he had him, harder the second time than the first but with as little success. And there's only so far you can push in suggesting that your respected client really should take a shower.

"Sure," Yuuya says. "I got him to have a bath with me. Nice hot water, hand jobs with bath soap… why would he turn that down?"

Right. It's depressing to think that he could probably learn a lot from Yuuya.

Still, he reminds himself, he's not doing so badly these days. He handled Kamenashi, got him out of his life without provoking another complaint. Tonight, he's got a comfort with Yamatani, and Ohishi, his other regular, is coming in for one tomorrow, so that's the weekend already in the bag, and he'll probably pick up a couple of relaxations on top of that. And he's noticed that after Kamenashi, he's come to appreciate the other clients a bit more, just for not being assholes. The assignment with Kato went well; he hopes he didn't overstep any lines, though the man seemed unoffended at the time.

Jin casts a glance at Tadayoshi, who had Kato again two nights ago as usual, wondering if Kato said anything at all. Probably not, though.

He decides to ask, anyway, because Kato doesn't come into the club often, and who knows when the next time will be, and maybe he said something and Tadayoshi just didn't know it was important. Once Yuuya has adjusted the counterweight for some chin-ups, Jin goes to join Tadayoshi, who is cooling off from his run, stretching on the mats. "Kato-sensei doing fine?" Jin asks.

"Yeah," Tadayoshi says. He props up a heel, bouncing soreness out of one leg. "Thanks for taking over last week. I felt really bad about letting him down a second time."

"No problem," Jin says, crouching down next to him. "We did okay. I think." He doesn't really know how to ask his question. "Um… did he say anything?" he tries vaguely.

"About you?"

"I just thought… you know, maybe—"

Tadayoshi laughs. "He didn't complain! Look, just because one client can be a bit of an asshole doesn't mean they'll all run to Ootomo on the flimsiest excuse."

"Right," Jin says.

"For what it's worth, he did mention you, and I think he likes you."

 _Likes_. It hits him because for once he wasn't even worried and here it is, just like that, like it's easy.

"Yeah," Tadayoshi says. "So, you know, don't stress."

"Great," Jin says, and then he wonders whether— "Uh, you don't mind, do you? I know he's your regular—"

Tadayoshi laughs again, waves him off. "Regular, yes, and he's a decent guy, but we're not exactly Tsubasa and Takki-san."

Jin rolls his eyes because he didn't think they were, he doesn't think that kind of nonsense.

"What's Tsubasa and Takki-san?" comes Yuuya's clear voice as he's hopping down from the dip station, curiosity drawing him over. He's got good hearing. And now Junno, who's hanging from the top of the wall bars by his feet and doing show-off sit-ups, is looking interested, too. Jin can feel his mood dropping.

"Club myth," he says curtly. "Fairytale for little whores."

Yuuya stops with his towel in one hand, the water bottle in the other, and gives him an uncertain glance. Now he feels bad because it's not Yuuya's fault and he can't be blamed for asking. It's just that… it's _everything_ about this stupid story.

And of course Junno has dropped off the bars and is bounding closer. "Tsubasa was one of us," he says to Yuuya, ignoring Jin. "Nice guy, had his head screwed on right, too. I started here just a few months before he left. Takizawa-san was a client, and from what I hear he took to Tsubasa from the start and… well." He produces a big dorky grin Jin wants to punch him for.

"Oh, right," Yuuya says, nodding. "A sugar daddy. I've had a coup—"

"Nope," Junno says, "not those two, that was love. Boyfriends, the whole deal, Takki-san got Tsubasa out of here and they set up house together, all official, meeting the in-laws and stuff."

Sometimes… Junno should just shut up. "Don't fill his head with crap," Jin says. "It doesn't help anybody to believe in nonsense like that." Love gets people into this sort of mess, not out.

"I think it's nice," Junno says.

Thankfully, Yuuya looks sceptical.

"It doesn't happen," Jin says.

"It has happened. Tatsuya was there, he saw it happen." They all look at Tatsuya, over in the corner with the weights, even Jin, even though he knows what Tatsuya is going to say.

"Last I heard, it seemed to be working out," is what it is, and of course Jin's not surprised, it wouldn't have become some stupid myth in the first place if they didn't believe. Tatsuya shrugs at him, vaguely apologetic. "Takuya-san says Tsubasa keeps in touch."

It doesn't matter. Jin glares at Junno, shakes his head at Yuuya. "It doesn't happen. Maybe it was a fluke, but there's no point going on like… like it's _real_."

"It's—"

"You're not using those bars any more," Jin says before Junno can say anything even more stupid. "Right? So I can have them?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just turns his back on them and walks, and when he's there he doesn't even know what to do with those stupid things, but at least they're at some distance, so he sits down and hooks his feet under them and does fast sit-ups, which are more comfortable on the padded bench meant for them, but whatever.

He ignores them all until knees appear beside his face, and then he looks up. Tatsuya is looking down at him.

"You want the bars?" Jin says between one crunch and another. If Tatsuya followed him to talk about idiotic stories, he doesn't want to know about it.

"No," Tatsuya says, "I was just wondering…"

And he lets it hang until Jin has disentangled his feet and gets up.

"Thank you for helping Yuu-chan," Jin says, before he can forget. "I felt kind of bad that I couldn't warn him."

Tatsuya shrugs lightly. "No problem." His eyes rest on the boy who is still talking to Junno, who has twisted himself into a pretzel. "He's going to do well here, I think."

"Hm," Jin agrees. "Knows how to handle them."

A nod, then Tatsuya turns back to Jin. "How did it go with Kamenashi-san?"

Jin's pretty sure he didn't start or make a funny face or anything. After all, he's got no reason to any more, anyway, he really doesn't. He looks as neutral as he possibly can. "It was all right," he says. "I think he was happy enough."

Tatsuya seems pleased. "I'm glad to hear it," he says, like Jin proved him right on something or other. "What did you talk about?"

"Uh," Jin says, "we didn't really talk much." He shrugs, hoping it's a cool kind of shrug. "You know."

The look of concern that crosses Tatsuya's face has, Jin is sure, nothing to do with him, but with worry that maybe Kamenashi isn't getting his money's worth. Jin can't help him there. It's not like the guy encouraged any sort of conversation. It's not like Jin is eloquent when he can't move and can't see.

Tatsuya studies him a moment longer, a little too measuring for Jin's comfort. A mishandled weight clanks loudly over the conversations, and Jin can hear Jaejoong teasing the culprit about it in his accented Japanese. There are raised voices somewhere outside, but fading, maybe someone having a fight over fridge space again.

Tatsuya seems to come to some sort of decision, and it looks favourable enough if it didn't turn out to be, bizarrely— "He likes to talk about work sometimes, get things off his chest," he says. Advice about Kamenashi. "But he doesn't like to brag, so you have to draw him out a little."

Jin doesn't need advice. He and Kamenashi are done. "Right," he says, and tries to look thoughtful.

"He doesn't like to be presumptuous, so you have to take the initiative sometimes, a bit. Without pushing him, of course."

Is this it? Is that supposed to be the secret handshake that keeps Kamenashi from going nuts on you? Jin says nothing, tries to look appreciative.

Tatsuya hesitates briefly for the next one, whatever weird thing he's going to come out with next, but apparently Jin passes muster again. "And watch out for these moods he gets," Tatsuya says in the end, and that's more like it because _no kidding_. But Jin keeps his mouth firmly shut and just as well because Tatsuya continues, "He won't ask for it but sometimes he likes it, if you notice, if he's in that sort of mood, and then he likes it really slow…"

Jin blinks because that is out of some alternate universe where— is Tatsuya even saying what he thinks he's saying? "Uh… yeah…," he contributes.

Tatsuya nods, kind of to himself, maybe. "Do you think he'll ask for you regularly now?"

"No!" Maybe a little too emphatic. Tatsuya looks faintly surprised. "I mean, no, Ootomo told me Kamenashi called and he had no complaints but he doesn't want me again, either. He said so, last week. He's not going to ask for me again." He stops himself because he's babbling. "So," he says. "I guess he's just, you know, busy. With his film."

Tatsuya nods again. "His schedule gets crazy. Filming, promotions, campaigns, everybody wants a piece of him, I don't know how he stays sane with all that going on."

In Jin's opinion, that battle is lost, not that he'll say that either, and he's not sure how to get out of this conversation without sounding moronic or pissing off Tatsuya, but then there's voices through the door again, clearly Ootomo this time, clearly shouting, and everyone stops in their tracks.

They've both turned towards the door, and when it opens, Jin half expects Ootomo to come storming in, but it's only Jun, looking stylish even in sports gear.

"What's going on?" Junno asks him, as perplexed as they all are. Jin checks on Yuuya without thinking, and finds Yuuya looking back at him, puzzled and a little lost.

Jun raises his eyebrows, and then he turns and carefully closes the door. They wait because Jun can be a drama queen but this feels real, and when he turns back, he still has their collective attention.

"He thinks Shota kept an appointment off the record," Jun says in an even voice, and goes over to the treadmill. He doesn't need to say more. It's the thing they're most paranoid about, right after discretion.

"Well, shit," Tadayoshi says, still on the mat.

Tatsuya is frowning, clearly sceptical. "How? Who was it?"

Jun slings his towel over the rail and puts his water within arm's reach. "I just heard him yell about commission," he shrugs at Tatsuya. "No idea about the rest."

"And did he?" Junno asks. "Shota, I mean."

Stepping onto the treadmill, Jun gives him a pointed look. "I wasn't _in_ there," he says with a hint of impatience. "I only caught the loud bits, and _he_ wasn't doing much of the yelling."

It's not good. Jin exchanges a glance with Tatsuya, who tilts his head vaguely.

It's quiet for a bit, under the regular thump of Jun's feet on the treadmill. Jaejoong and Tadayoshi start talking in low voices. Jin isn't interested in speculation, but when Yuuya comes over, questions in his eyes, he doesn't wait for him to ask.

"They're really paranoid about people cutting commission and seeing clients from the club behind their backs," he explains quietly, and looks at Tatsuya, who nods.

"Oh," Yuuya says. "Does that happen?"

"Yeah, sometimes." It's not so surprising given the margins, and how tempting it must be once you know a client well enough. But to Jin… he's already glad when he's not pissing management off the regular way.

"Not often," Tatsuya says. "Most people are smarter than that."

Jin certainly wouldn't take the risk. "Last time was right before I got here," he says, and Tatsuya nods again.

"Hiroki."

"Yeah." Jin knows the name. They told him all about that two days in, with the appropriate warnings. "I got his apartment." He still finds that a bit creepy when he thinks about it much.

"They kicked him out?"

"Straight away," Jin says, and Yuuya blinks at his harsh tone, but he can't help it, suddenly it's like a grimly pleasant counterweight to that other stupid story. "Was gone from the club overnight, no place to stay," he lists it, almost calm. "Forget security, or screening, or knowing where you _sleep_."

He doesn't want to scare Yuuya. Yuuya doesn't need scaring. But _this_ is what it's like.

"What about the client?"

Jin shrugs. "They didn't tell me _that_. Slap on the wrist, I guess." He looks at Tatsuya, in case he wants to address the rumours, but Tatsuya's face is closed. "Some say it was that baker, some say it wasn't," he sums it up for Yuuya in the end. "Guy had more than one regular. They're all still coming here."

Yuuya meets his eyes, and yeah, he gets it. This is what it's like. These are their stories.


	7. Chapter 7

### Tuesday 23 September

Raindrops are running spidery trickles down the tinted glass doors of the Georgian-style building. They open automatically as Kame approaches, admitting him to dry warmth and muted colours and the faint scent of polished hardwood in the club's foyer.

From behind the dark marble desk, Johnny's high-scale version of a bouncer invites Kame through to the second entrance, a plain but not secretive looking door a few steps down, past the man's station, while the elderly couple in search of a fancy dinner who entered the foyer behind him are being smoothly ushered into the official restaurant. Kame hasn't been here in weeks, but the man, almost two meters of packed muscle in an exquisitely tailored uniform, knows all the clients by sight, always.

The door closes behind Kame with a muted click and he greets the concierge at the ornate little desk to his left, unwraps himself out of the various layers designed to shield him from the weather and from prying eyes, and hands them over. The sitting area is set off with a delicate line of waist-high screens, matted glass and graceful gold stencilling, and the attendant bows in welcome. Kame acknowledges him, but doesn't go to sit yet, turns left instead, to the bar, to get himself a drink.

The club is quiet, not as lively as it can get when you drop in late on a weekend. It's early yet, just after seven, but Midori is on an overnight work trip and he told her he would stay in the city to meet up with Tanaka, maybe crash at his place, and there's no reason for him to wait around his empty apartment. He likes it here.

A shame Tanaka couldn't make it, after all the voicemail tag they played with each other over the last few days. But Kame doesn't depend on the company, feeling at ease in the welcoming atmosphere almost from the moment he steps inside.

He briefly checks his hair for excessive hat damage in the mirrored back of a cabinet, then turns to glance around the club – marble and chrome and wood, soft lamps and spotlights, colourful woodcuts along the main walls and delicate wash paintings in the marble and maroon corner – while the bartender opens a bottle for him. He'd never want this much glitz and glamour in his own house, or in the apartment, prefers things simple and neat, but the stylish interior of the club has its own kind of appeal. It's a different world.

Only a few tables are occupied; Kame spots the environment minister, in the clutches of a whole group of cheerful escorts, on one of the larger pale nappa couches of the central seating group. There are also two older, vaguely familiar-looking businessmen who have so far not invited any professional company and seem deep in thoughtful discussion. The black leather seats in front of the big plasma screen are a bit more populated, but judging by the unexcited manner of the audience, whatever is on is probably not sports. Over by the wash paintings in the far corner, past the tall potted plants which serve for screens, Kame can glimpse Kitabakate Ken, a former star batter whose home runs had snatched the league championship from Kame's favourite team twice, when he had been in junior high and sworn never to forgive him. He's over that, he thinks, but KitaKen is absorbed in a spirited conversation with the tall Korean.

Kame has been spotted, too, and Tsukada-sensei from last time is coming up to him. Kame bows with a little smile. Tsukada likes Kame's films for being positive and family-friendly, so Kame doesn't have the heart to tell him he'd sometimes much rather play something grittier. The approval feels good anyway, and it's nice to see a politician who genuinely cares about his mission.

Tsukada has heard about the new campaign, it turns out. "A truly high-profile effort," he says. "It's high time something was done about that, the minister has been dragging his heels on all of these studies…" As the man who would like to replace the current minister of education, he may not be entirely unbiased.

"It hasn't really gotten off the ground yet," Kame cautions, but Tsukada's enthusiasm is only briefly subdued. He starts asking Kame about an event schedule Kame isn't sure the _organizers_ have yet, but it's a friendly kind of interest, and it feels good to talk to somebody with this much experience and a true passion for the subject. When Kame takes his wine over to the dining tables, he asks Tsukada to join him.

He has the club's very good Italian-style veal, while Tsukada goes for Chinese pork in an orange sauce. After some more campaign talk, Tsukada comes back around to the evils of violence in films, a subject on which Kame has a more complex professional view which he doesn't think the Opposition's education spokesman would appreciate. He mostly nods, and lets his eyes drift across the room just as Tatsuya comes out from where the elevators are hidden behind tall bamboo stems and a Muromachi-style folding screen, wearing the charcoal suit Kame likes on him and taking in the entire club with one slow glance.

He sees Kame and smiles in greeting, but doesn't come to interrupt their meal, and he seems to know where he's going when he approaches a recently arrived guest who is sitting by himself two tables over from KitaKen. That's a shame too, but Kame knows not to make assumptions when he drops in unannounced like this.

Eventually, Tsukada starts making eyes past Kame's shoulder at one of the young men before the plasma screen, and when Kame is has finished eating, he straightens up. "If you'll excuse me," he says, smoothing back his black-dyed hair. "Time to go talk to the boys, isn't it?"

He winks as he leaves. Kame finishes off his wine with a few small relaxed sips, has another look around without sending out any invitations. The waiter is at hand with the same bottle of Chambertin, but Kame declines and leaves his empty glass on the table, choosing to move to the bar instead where he thinks about his options, undecided if he wants to go with something stronger after dinner.

"Italian again?" Tatsuya asks, just reaching the bar as Kame turns to his right. There's gentle teasing in his voice, and his movements are smooth and familiar when he leans against the polished wood.

"What can I say, I like Italian," Kame says, and smiles. "I sometimes have something else."

Soft copper strands fall into Tatsuya's face when he tilts his head, and he brushes them back with a slender hand. "True," he says easily. "That Tuesday last December when—"

He stops when Kame raises his hand to admit defeat.

"An unexpected night off?" Tatsuya asks, looking pleased for him.

"Yes," Kame says, holding his gaze with a question that he knows how to ask without being crude.

"I have an engagement tonight," Tatsuya lets him down, and of course, Kame had guessed as much.

"I understand."

"A new club member, his first time here by himself," Tatsuya explains, and then flashes him a grin. "Don't look now."

Kame manages not to, remembering his own first visit and the slow fading of dread when Takuya-san sat down with him, confident and attractive and with a gentle humour that put an end to Kame's urge to hide in the bathroom until everyone had left. He'd been so terribly nervous, and had no idea how to talk to anybody, even though no one here makes it particularly hard.

"I should introduce you some other time," Tatsuya says after catching the bartender's eye. "I think the two of you would get on well."

"Sure," Kame says.

Tatsuya orders Musigny for his guest and Chablis for himself. "How are you then?" he asks while the bartender is busy. "It's a shame about that one time. Are things really crazy for you just now?"

He says it without any sort of implication, just an unintrusive kind of concern, and Kame pushes the momentary reminder of that other escort aside with ease. "A little crazy," he admits, then nods at the two glasses that have appeared in front of Tatsuya. "Don't let me keep you, though."

Tatsuya picks up the white wine and the red, raising his head, and Kame only looks at the pale skin of his neck above the maroon satin shirt for a second longer than necessary.

"Tell me about it next time," he says, half promise and half apology, full lips curving into another smile, and Kame laughs.

"If I can ever get my schedule sorted out in time, certainly!"

"Do try," Tatsuya says, definitely flirting now, and Kame shakes his head in amusement as he watches him go. Truly a pity, but Tatsuya is right. There'll be other times.

Belatedly, he gets a glass of port for himself. It's gotten busier, though there's still nobody Kame usually sits with. The two businessmen have moved on to one of the round sofas and have gathered a small crowd, among them Jun, who ruthlessly outshines his junior colleagues with his energetic flirting and a sparkling wit that Kame is just as glad to observe from a distance.

The environment minister is still surrounded by an enthusiastic harem. He's sitting upright and trying to explain something very seriously, while Junnosuke on his left is equally serious about pouring the man a refill from the magnum bottle Nakamaru-sensei must have gotten for them all. On the minister's other side sits a pretty, very young-looking boy Kame hasn't seen before, the only one not sharing the champagne, and next to him is Tadayoshi, who happens to look up just as Kame's eyes come to rest on him, and he smiles and waves.

Kame hesitates; it's not polite to just invite himself like that and he doesn't want to cramp the minister's style. But at that point Nakamaru pauses for breath and notices him, and echoes Tadayoshi's inviting gesture. So Kame picks up his glass and moves.

"Kamenashi-san," the minister says when he approaches, "how nice to see you here again after so long. You looked a little lonely. This is not your usual day, is it?"

Kame bows and smiles. "Nakamaru-sensei. Thank you for letting me join you." He sits and adds ruefully, "There don't seem to be usual days anymore. My plans seem to keep changing at short notice."

Nakamaru nods understandingly. "It can be so difficult to make and keep appointments."

There are other empty drinks on the table, Kame notes. It makes sense; the escorts get a cut of their clients' drinking tab and with the place fairly quiet, Nakamaru's generosity is appreciated.

"Nakamaru-sensei was just telling us about his technique for good shaving foam," says Shota, whom Kame has met before because Tanaka likes him a lot.

"His technique will _make waves_ ," Junnosuke says, which has Nakamaru flush rather desperately and deny he's really such a genius.

Kame has seen these two sit together. Junnosuke is one of the luxury escorts and he always seems friendly, exuberantly so, but Kame has never been tempted to try him, and the pornographic movies he is famous for leave him cold too.

Tadayoshi, with his soft face and auburn-dyed hair, is attractive enough, and he seems pleased to see Kame. He is also easygoing, they've worked out quite well together the couple of times Kame took him upstairs and perhaps, if Nakamaru doesn't show signs of favouring him, Kame will ask for his company tonight.

Shota is sitting at the edge of the group, and next to him there's…

"Yuuya," the boy says, and gives him a smile fit to make Kame feel that Yuuya has spent the entire evening waiting just for him. "I'm new." It sounds like an invitation, not a clumsy apology, and Kame finds himself smiling back.

"Kamenashi," he says. "I look forward to talking more with you."

"I really hope you mean that," the boy says, but he doesn't forget the man who bought them their drinks. Nakamaru is just getting praised by all for his beautiful hands and smooth complexion, which leads to more skin care explanations and Nakamaru trying to ignore Junnosuke's thigh getting very friendly with him.

Kame wonders if he should say he's had good experiences with the DHC acne gel, but then it strikes him as too personal. He throws in a general compliment to the beauty gathered in this place, which makes the escorts giggle. Tadayoshi gives him a warm smile.

Eventually Junnosuke leans in to whisper in Nakamaru's ear, then makes his excuses to all. "Exit Junnosuke, enter Granmarie!" he declares, so Kame guesses he has an appointment with somebody who does like the biker movies. Junnosuke moves away towards the back end of the bar by the elevators, nodding towards someone there who wears a formal, stylish suit according to the club's—

It's him. Talking to Junnosuke that's— him, and Kame feels weak and weird with a sense of déjà vu that makes no sense at all because the man works here, of course he works here, the man's an _escort_ and it's all wrong, he's not supposed to be here, he doesn't _fit_ here with his soft dark hair and the smile in his eyes and the stoop of those tall shoulders…

Junnosuke steps closer and he looks long-limbed and lanky next to Jin when they chat, and god, what a weird thought, what a _fucking_ weird way to hold yourself when you're not even that tall, and he didn't look all that superior when he was naked under Kame, did he, stopped looking at him funny when he came all over himself at Kame's command—

He takes a breath, shifts in his seat, embarrassed with the way his face is hot and flushed all of a sudden and the man is looking around, any second he will— yes. And it's worse.

It's a hundred times worse, and Jin just stands there _staring_ as if he's got any right—

And then he flinches out of it, turns his back, _turns his back_ on Kame and wanders off like…

The thought of leaving crosses his mind because he hates this feeling, being watched and measured and the creeping sense of this guy thinking he knows him just because Kame fucked him once and maybe— no. No way in hell. He's not running away, he's not letting _this guy_ —

Tadayoshi still looks interested. He's good-looking, skilled, it might be good, go to a room and do what he came for but no, _no._ That's not what he came for and it would still be running away and the way Jin is leaning against the bar as if that would make him inviting is ridiculous, when it's plain to see the man has no idea, is still a beginner even now, he looks like one, from the awkward tilt of his hips to the nervous way he's nursing his drink and Kame's not looking at that mouth, he's going to stop.

He's going to get it together.

"Isn't it, Kamenashi-san?" Nakamaru says, his face obnoxiously red and Kame feels crowded here with all the escorts and the minister, even though he knows nobody has moved.

"I suppose," he says, trying a smile that feels weak on his face. He wants to catch up to whatever it is that he just agreed with, but Jin is wandering over to the businessmen and their crowd, and, right, apparently he scores an invitation to sit, not that astonishing, he looks hot enough if you don't know him and they're _welcome_ to him, and won't they ever be surprised to learn what it takes to get what you paid for out of him.

Subways. Somebody is going on about them. Trains. Delays and perverts and dirt, and Jin at his back watching him, thinking whatever he thinks of Kame which doesn't matter at all, and when he turns his head because a waiter is passing and he can just follow the movement, Jin is doing his dull mute impression, absorbed in the drink some deluded soul bought him, he's not even _looking_ at Kame.

They're all still talking, and Kame can't keep track. He looks at Tadayoshi, who has a charming smile and a good body, who has been nothing but pleasant and Kame is hard in his pants but the thought of going off with Tadayoshi feels odd and unfitting.

He can't spend the entire evening like this. Something needs to happen. Maybe someone will just take Jin away, someone who'll learn faster than Kame, who will just know what to do with Jin, tell him to strip and kneel and _take it_ , someone _else_ …

No, that would _help_.

This evening… this can't be his whole evening.

There's a commotion, scraping of chairs and laughter and the sound of glasses being put down when the group at his back gets up and Kame feels something like… relief, yes, someone's ready to move on to better things and maybe they're under the impression that fucking Jin is one of them and they'll just take him away and out of his sight.

He turns as the noise fades, curious who drew the short straw, and finds himself staring straight into Jin's eyes, and this time Jin drops his gaze instantly and turns away, walks straight in the opposite direction, leaving a half-finished glass of beer behind. The two businessmen have reached the concierge, their respective choices cozying up to them, three escorts altogether, somebody's feeling adventurous tonight. But of course Jin didn't make the cut, of _course_ he's left here for other people to deal with and that's hardly a surprise and Kame isn't surprised and he isn't anything else either.

He takes a sip from his glass and doesn't even taste the alcohol, and he stops; he's not going to get randomly drunk because that escort is ruining his night. He's going to take it slow, wait the guy out, someone will surely take him and fuck him _sometime_.

There's another story and he's given up on following. Nakamaru doesn't notice and the escorts won't comment, theseescorts know how to behave themselves and maybe he should be reasonable and choose one of them, maybe he can be reasonable if someone finally takes Jin away and he stops feeling this way, stops feeling _Jin_ with every hot, too-frantic pulse.

Jin is at the bar again. With his own drink because nobody wants him, with those eyes wandering because… just because, but they're avoiding Kame now, darting past him and it stings like a slap. And then he stops the clueless searching because there's a couple walking up to him; okay, definitely a couple, and old Handa-san doesn't look like he'll want to handle Jin on top of the cute little thing hanging off his arm, except there's another guy joining them.

That baker from Osaka. With an expanding empire. Bagels. They talked before. Attractive man. Liked Kame's films. Young by club standards. Not as young as Kame, not as rich as Kame but Jin smiles, open and pathetically hopeful and Kame is standing, lukewarm drink in his hand and four pairs of eyes on him.

He puts down the drink and makes a quick, effective apology to Nakamaru; all in order because that's how it works, people wander off and these men are all here for Nakamaru anyway, and then he approaches Handa-san with confidence and smiles at them all, and Jin's eyes go a little wide. Silly; interesting if Kame cared at all. No surprise he can't attract clients like that.

Kame, though, has manners, and he greets Handa-san first, strict order of seniority here. "I hope the Rotary club is doing well," he adds, and Handa beams and affirms that yes, the latest fundraiser is doing wonderfully, and Kame turns to the baker, Nishikido-san, who gives him a wide smile and says, "The bagels are doing well, too. Nice to see you again, Kamenashi-san."

Handa introduces his escort, a slight, strawberry-blond man called Satoshi, and finally Kame turns to Jin, who's going to have to work harder if he wants to pretend Kame doesn't exist—

—and finds that Nishikido has stepped closer, is _touching_ him, and saying to Kame, "And this is—"

"We've met," Kame snaps, because he doesn't need _that_ introduction and Jin looking quite so happy being manhandled by—

Nishikido drops his hand from Jin's arm and Kame looks at him, finds a smile. "Of course I know Jin," he says to Nishikido, watching the momentary surprise fade from his face. "He makes quite the impression, after all."

The baker looks happy to agree with that but Kame ignores it, turns back to Jin, who freezes nicely under his full attention. "Jin. You didn't even say hello to me yet."

Apparently Jin does remember the power of speech. "Hello, Kamenashi-san," he says, in a professionally inflected voice, with a professional bow. "I hope you are having a pleasant evening."

"We haven't seen you around in a while. I'm sure the boys missed you," Handa says loudly, sidetracking him, and Jin ducks his head in that absurd way he has and at once seems very interested in his drink and Kame has to say something about how busy he is, they know how it goes.

"Ah, with your new film," Nishikido says, face lighting up with a spontaneous smile, and of course he's an attractive client here, this good-looking and this young, but that's no reason for Jin to be looking at him quite so openly.

"Yes," Kame says shortly. "It's a lot of work right now."

"You do look a bit tense," Handa observes, casually drawing an arm around his escort's middle although they're not even out of the lounge yet, and Kame says something else, watches Jin's hair fall into his eyes because he can't manage to hold his head straight, and Nishikido's short and maybe Jin wants to _please_ him, maybe that's what the silly antics are about, and the baker's smile has drifted, maybe he _likes_ the silly antics, going by the tentative glance he sends up Jin's body before their eyes meet, and Kame says, "Jin."

Jin flinches, then there's a flash of annoyance, but the tasteless romancing has stopped and the baker is looking between them curiously, and he makes room when Kame steps forward, just one step, that's enough, and behind him Handa says something vapid to his escort, and Kame's close enough to touch Jin.

"Apparently I'm a bit tense," he says, looking at Jin's full lips, then straight into his eyes. "Maybe you could relax me."

A guy who's spent half an evening already unsuccessfully offering himself could respond more eagerly, or even at all, but it's not like this is new. And the little shiver that happens to Jin when Kame puts his hand on his arm is very nice, offsets the statue effect, reminds Kame how good Jin can feel and yes, this is going to work, he's going to deal with this and he knows just how, and it's going to relax him all right. He's breathing easier already.

He curls his fingers around Jin's arm, tugs, just a little, just a hint that now might be the time for a service provider to be a little more forthcoming about his service. Jin is casting his eyes around as if he's looking for some better offer to spring up from the ground, blinks at the drink he's got standing on the bar, and Kame reaches across with his free hand and pushes the glass towards the bartender. "You can put it on my tab."

Jin lowers his arm; slowly, though, not resisting him, and then he lowers his head, like a nod, and Kame nods more approvingly, and steps aside so Jin can start moving, excusing them both.

He keeps his hand on the small of Jin's back as he guides him towards the concierge, and the little shifts and hesitations pressing against his fingers as Jin walks make his body fluttery and excited, more proof that this is the right thing to do, this will be _just_ right, and once he's got this settled he can get back to enjoying his evening.

He moves in front of Jin when they get to the desk; Tatsuya usually handles their bookings but then Tatsuya is… just something completely different, and who knows what kind of problems Jin will run into. The concierge smiles his usual polite, discreet smile, and then checks the room booking system hidden by the marble.

"Suite One is currently occupied, I'm afraid," he apologizes unnecessarily, "but Suite—"

"A standard room will do," Kame interrupts.

"Very well." The man is a professional and smoothly feeds a keycard into the machine, presses some buttons, and bows as he holds it out to Kame with both hands. "Room Sixteen." He looks at them both again, the usual pause for client or escort to put it whichever way they prefer, but the moment passes and this escort isn't saying anything; this escort is busy staring at the marble with dark concentration and so Kame tells the patient man, "One hour."

He turns, and Jin has torn himself away from the fascinating patterns, manages some cursory eye contact, and responds to Kame's directing hand at a commendable pace. He even walks by himself now, towards the elevators at the back.

Kame knows better than to expect small talk, and that's okay, he's happy to let anticipation build in the small space between them and in the restless tension in Jin's body as soon as the elevator doors close.

It's a short ride, just two floors, and when they step out into the stylish lobby, Kame looks at Jin with a raised eyebrow.

At least the man isn't entirely slow on the uptake.

"Room sixteen is this way," he says in a low voice, and Kame indicates for him to take the lead again.

It's at the back, beside the second suite, and when they reach it Jin stands back for Kame to slide the keycard in the reader. The light flashes green and he pushes the handle down, and a single soft bedside lamp comes on automatically as he enters, Jin following behind him.

He looks around. It's not a bad room; it's still better, and bigger, than many hotel rooms he has stayed in because nothing about this club is ordinary. Still… it's not exactly what he's used to.

He drops the key card on the coffee table. The blinds are drawn; the tinted windows are wide even in here, running along the head side of the bed, and Kame can see tiny lights sparkling through the gaps.

"I haven't been in one of these for ages," he remarks, and actually that's an understatement. His first time at the club was in a standard room because Takuya-san handled the booking, along with everything else that would have made Kame blush to say or request, and just took him there, made it easy and relaxed. After that he's always gone for suites where available, superior rooms in a pinch, because he never just comes for relaxations and this isn't a place to be cheap.

Jin, who has followed him to wait in the middle of the room, looks nonplussed. Fair enough. He's not exactly what you'd take to a suite, anyway.

But he's good for this, Kame is sure, Kame can feel it.

He's even making an effort, it seems, his eyes flickering to the bed, the couch behind Kame… Kame's face with some delay. As far as seductions go, the almost blank look is hardly inviting, but Kame knows how this will go, knows _exactly_ how it will go and none of it will depend on Jin's fumbling ways, and he'll be inviting enough looking up at Kame, opening warm and soft because Kame says so…

Jin holds his eyes, tries, "What would—"

But Kame takes a step and that's the end of that. Another one and he could touch if he wanted to, but he wants to look first, at Jin's mouth and how it shines wet with a dash of gloss, plain with suggestion, and at the uneven rise of Jin's chest, wants to look because he can and because he's got no reason not to, and it makes him harder.

He nods to himself. Exactly like this.

"On your knees."

Jin blinks once, but doesn't flinch, and then Kame draws in a rough breath himself when Jin sinks down, no hitch, no resistance, just goes down like he's supposed to and Kame takes a small step back because it's all so easy on the eyes and Jin's swallowing and not even moving a hand to brush back the hair that fell into his face and Kame can… let it sink in a bit, just a bit, he's not in such a hurry.

He reaches out to take care of that strand of hair for Jin, holds it lightly between two fingers, wraps it around, uncurls it gently, and he thinks how infuriating Jin can be with his accusing eyes and the way he looks at Kame and he drinks in the contrast, the transformation and if only Jin was always this biddable, this well-behaved, they'd never have had a problem, because this is just right.

He lets the hair go, traces one fine cheekbone with the back of his hand and it gets him a short sudden breath whispering over his forearm and wrist.

But that's enough. He pulls back briefly, to undo his belt, measured and calm and in no rush because Jin's watching him and Jin's not going anywhere, Jin's going to _do_ this and he's going to make it good, and he almost tenses when Kame cups the side of his face and splays his fingers wide over warm skin. Kame unzips with his other hand, slowly, and even that feels good, and even better with Jin's eyes on him, and then the relief when he pushes his underwear down, and he waits for that flickering second where he sees Jin get ready and god, _yes_ , and he pulls Jin in.

He exhales when Jin's mouth touches his cock, no teasing and tongue but the immediate obedience is hot on its own, and when Jin's lips slide down, pleasure shoots up his spine and makes his hips jerk but he doesn't close his eyes, it's too perfect to miss, and he sees Jin hollow his cheeks and _feels_ it under his palm, feels it around him and it's so tempting to thrust but… no, not in such a hurry, let Jin… give him a chance.

He strokes his fingers through Jin's hair, lingers when they get caught in the thickness but it's just a hint, Jin is doing all right just now, it's good if Kame doesn't have to steer them all the time.

"Not bad," he says, easing into a slow, relaxed rhythm, and Jin's right there, he gets with it and it's almost soothing, watching his cock slide over those full lips, no fuss and no interference and Jin's eyelashes are dark on his pale skin and—

"You look good like this," Kame says, because a little encouragement never comes amiss, and it's true, he looks amazing, he doesn't even need to take off his clothes when he looks this amazing with his mouth red and glistening and the dark hair framing his face and maybe he should just always look like this, like this it even makes sense that they keep him around because it's easy to forget those other images and how fucking annoying he can be.

"You looked good last time, too," he adds, and their rhythm wavers for a moment, picks up again when he gives Jin's head a slight nudge. He holds on a bit more tightly, just in case, but Jin yields and doesn't fuck it up again and something seems to be sticking at last. "Maybe looking good is what you're best at," Kame speculates, gets past the hitch in his breath, "maybe that's what they get you for." And for this, too, for this all warm and tight and wet, and there's a special kind of hot in seeing Jin just keep going, hearing it and taking it and Kame's pulse is heavy, humming all through his body. He lifts his free hand, runs shivery fingers over a high cheekbone again, trailing down. "Just take you back for some quick— oh, _yes_ ," he gasps when the suction around him gets sharper as he traces Jin's upper lip with a fingertip. "I guess that works. Guess some people just want a pretty mouth."

And then he's too busy breathing to talk and he thrusts in deep, fast, again, shows Jin he approves of the new intensity, it's time to step things up and Jin gets it and there's tongue, now, a skilled lick every time he pulls back, and the spot is right, if he just—

"Do that harder," Kame says, and Jin does and obeys his hand as he prods, faster, and Kame's hips move harder and sweat's breaking out between his shoulders and that mouth shines slick with spit as Jin keeps doing— that— _good_ — Kame jerks hard when he comes, shudders, and Jin keeps it steady, still moves with him, slowing, little shocks of pressure teasing Kame when he swallows, and swallows again.

Kame pulls out when that's done, takes a small step back. Jin's kneeling there all still, his lips dark and well-used and his eyes downcast, and the sight adds to the warm satisfaction that makes Kame's muscles heavy and content. He's going to enjoy his next drink.

Not going to have it here, though. He's done here. He tucks himself back in, slowly, gentle with sensitive skin, and he looks on just a bit longer; Jin can't want to stay there, he's probably just a bit less appreciative of just how— ah.

Guarded eyes, dark in the soft light and easy to look at, now.

Kame nods at him, zips up carefully. "Take back the key, would you," he says, "when you go back to work."

He gives Jin a moment to nod his acknowledgement, and he turns towards the door as Jin starts to get up. No need to wait for that, no need to wait around for anything, because he got everything he wanted out of this, and he feels good, settled when he closes the door behind him and, indeed, relaxed. He almost has to smile at that.

*~*~*

The lounge has become busier, for a Tuesday night at least, even if he wasn't away that long. He looks around for familiar faces, somewhere to sit and enjoy the evening, properly now, to stretch out his legs and let the pleasant slackness of his body mingle with a good, strong drink. But there's still no obvious place to go. The retired laundry magnate has arrived, later than usual; he's pleasant to talk to, but he's not in his normal spot by the wash paintings, has instead joined Nishikido, and even though the baker has found himself a new interest, Kame isn't sure he wants…

He lets his gaze wander some more; there are people he's seen once or twice and people he's never seen before and a few seating groups away, Tatsuya looks up from a joke shared with his first-time client and their eyes meet and there's a strange moment and something odd, unfamiliar in Tatsuya's expression, some kind of thoughtfulness that… doesn't look right.

Kame nods briefly, turns and decides after all to join Yamatani, who welcomes him warmly and asks him how his work his going, he must be so busy, Yamatani hasn't seen him in ages.

The baker looks at him with some surprise, looks behind him. "I thought you were…" He trails off, a hint of embarrassment following the indiscreet remark. Beside him, their thighs already touching, he's got that boy with the blinding smile, who's handling a fancy looking cocktail.

"Oh, yes," Kame waves it off, and sits down on one of the soft nappa two-seat couches. Yes, this is better. And Nishikido's all right, even manages to be a fan without getting exhausting. They can make nice here. "I'm glad we get to talk some more, Nishikido-san," he says, easing back a little in his comfortable seat.

Nishikido throws an uncertain glance at the boy, and back at Kame. "You've met Yuuya?" he asks politely.

"We were introduced earlier." Kame shows him a warm, friendly smile, and nods at the boy. "Hello, Yuuya," he says, and winks at the green umbrella in Yuuya's tall, frosted glass. "So you did find something more interesting than coke."

"Strictly non-alcoholic!" Yuuya insists with wide eyes and a shy hint of amusement. He steals a coy glance at Nishikido, a thank you that looks charming from here.

The waiter is by Kame's shoulder and Kame decides quickly and goes with whisky. Settling down, he catches the curious gaze of a young man sitting at the outside of a larger group, someone he's seen in passing before but Kame also knows how to communicate he's currently not interested in widening the circle without being impolite.

"So how are the bagels really?" Kame asks Nishikido, who laughs.

"Round, with a hole in the middle," he says, but with an apologetic lift of one shoulder, as if he's not quite sure how the joke will be received. "No change there. But people are very interested in them."

"The takeover of Kanto is progressing as it should?"

Nishikido nods, some satisfaction shining through in his modest expression. "Better than we could have hoped. People approach us because of the bagels, but they quickly become interested in our other products as well. There are few companies with such an international range." He has a very charming smile when he's pleased, and an attractive sort of confidence; you can believe he's got the charisma to go and make what's basically bread not only interesting, but into a bit of a cult. "We're even looking at opening franchises in the food courts of some of the bigger department stores now," he concludes, pleased and proud to be bringing his sexy Osaka bagels to Tokyo. Kame really hopes it will work out for him.

"You might want to speak to Suzuki-san," he suggests. "I think he's CEO at Isetan or something very similar, and he comes here pretty regularly."

"Fridays," Yamatani adds. "I could introduce you if Kamenashi-san isn't here."

"Thank you," Nishikido says quickly, "that's very kind of you, but it's not necessary, I was introduced to him a few weeks ago and we have been discussing this, he's been incredibly supportive. There may well be an opportunity, but of course I shouldn't be impatient."

Kame smiles. "I guess that means we'll see more of you in the future."

"Oh, I hope so! I may stop the tedious travelling and simply settle here. Give it a year, maybe." Nishikido pauses when the waiter is there with Kame's wine, checks on his companion's cocktail glass. Yuuya lifts it, still half full, but winks gratefully over the rim nonetheless.

"But what about you?" Nishikido asks Kame once they're all settled again. "How is the film going? You seem quite taken with your co-star, I see." He sounds like he's trying not to appear excited, and doesn't catch the intrigued little smile Yuuya shoots him.

It's nice to see that the interview got attention. "She's a good actress," Kame says. "There are many good people on the team. I expect it'll all go well enough."

"It must be good if you like your co-star, Kamenashi-san," Yuuya says with a very interested expression, and adds more hesitantly, "if there's a romance in your film, I mean."

Nishikido looks curious, too, while Yuuya takes a bashful sip of his strictly non-alcoholic cocktail and brushes Nishikido's arm when he sits back.

"It helps," Kame says with another smile, and is almost tempted to mention the great shoot they had last week.

For a while after this, he fields the customary questions about life on a film set, how to act harmonic scenes with people you can't stand, and which director he's most appreciated working with so far. Yamatani is interested to hear more about Nogushi-san, turns out to have been an admirer for the last three decades, ever since she refused a stunt double for a daring rooftop chase. Then Nishikido wants to know if Kame does his own stunts in the rare action scenes he gets, and if he can really ride a horse. Yuuya asks what else he has done and if his insurance doesn't complain. They get involved in a discussion of their favourite film genres – Yamatani likes thrillers and spy movies, Yuuya robot cartoons, and Nishikido confesses to a liking for romantic comedy – and Kame, now on his second whisky, is just wondering whether he should admit that he'd love a challenging role in a gritty drama one day when he notices Yamatani looking past their group and toward the back of the room as if about to invite another person over.

He seems unsuccessful in catching the attention of whoever it is, though, and when his hand stops in mid-raise and he turns back to Nishikido and the boy, Kame sneaks a look.

Oh, _surely_ not.

Kame doesn't see his face, doesn't need to; dark natural hair and the wide back and his awkward hanger-on manner towards the group that's going to have to put up with him are clear enough. Surely Yamatani didn't mean him.

Though of course it would be just like him to act weird over such a friendly invitation.

Kame turns back to his company, checks subtly, but the conversation is continuing as before, Nishikido distracted by Yuuya's enthusiastic narration of something that sounds like a car chase. Kame has a slow, savouring sip of his drink and concentrates, too relaxed to bother with Jin and what he might be up to behind Kame's back.

"So you don't _have_ to be a teenager to fly one of those things?" Yamatani asks. It's a long time since Kame paid any attention to mecha anime and he remembers barely enough to know what the boy is talking about, but both Nishikido and Yamatani seem interested.

"Not really," Yuuya says, "but most of them are, all the best pilots, the ones with the coolest machines." He's put the cocktail down to wave his hands more energetically. "Because there are differences, you see, in the specs. They've all got some sort of specialty."

"What's your favourite, then?"

"Hmm." Yuuya looks torn. "I guess it's Deathscythe, but that's an ancient model now, nobody would fly that anymore."

"I remember that one," Nishikido says. "Guess that makes me ancient, too."

"But it's my favourite anyway," Yuuya insists in a flirtatious tone, then realizes it wasn't quite the denial he meant it to be, and he drops his head to hide his grin as Nishikido laughs and pats his knee in reassurance. Yuuya shoots him a glance up from under his fringe. The hand stays.

Yamatani looks away with polite, somewhat amused discretion, and then his eyes are scanning the room again. Kame follows so he doesn't make Nishikido self-conscious when things are starting to develop for him, and just to check, and Jin is giving him one of those stares again, right across the room, and then he— what an awkward little smile. And then he turns away again and Kame straightens in his seat because that was… odd and he's not sure he likes not knowing what the hell—

Yamatani is lowering his hand from a little wave; he seems a bit puzzled, but then smiles at Kame nevertheless. Oh. Right.

Kame brings his drink to his lips and concentrates on that, tries to find back into the mood. This isn't quite what he had in mind.

But thankfully Yamatani seems to have found something else to interest him, too, because he's signalling a waiter, and asks for the snacks menu when the man bows to him deferentially. Kame has had the snacks here and they are excellent, an izakaya menu gone haute cuisine. But he's not hungry now, so when the waiter gives Kame an enquiring little bow after Yamatani has ordered a selection of sashimi, tofu, and edamame and pickles to share, Kame shakes his head and says, "No, thank you." Then he watches Nishikido flick through the menu for Yuuya and whisper suggestions to him.

"I'll have the takoyaki," Yuuya says brightly, and he must have _known_ , surely he knew that Nishikido would break into a wide smile at that.

"Good choice, genuine Kansai food," the baker says, "though of course they don't get it right, here in Tokyo, even in this place."

"Why can't they get it right?"

"Ah, it takes a true Osaka obaa-chan to make the perfect takoyaki. Maybe I'll bring you some next time."

"I'd like that," Yuuya smiles, and Nishikido turns to the waiter, who has stood by with no sign of impatience, and orders a plate of takoyaki and one of gyoza 'for all'.

They discuss regional food varieties some more while they wait, and the club's special spiced tofu recipe. Normally Kame finds food to be an interesting subject. He likes food well enough, is well-informed about what is healthy and hip for the conscientious celebrity to eat, has food anecdotes from the forty-seven prefectures and a number of overseas locations to tell… but he finds it hard to concentrate and he isn't sure why except he'd like to know more about what's going on behind his… no, not behind his back, a discreet survey tells him, more over to the far right now, behind the tall bamboo screens, and what _is_ that escort doing lurking there like some… and why does the waiter have to block Kame's view with his tray full of… their food. All right.

Kame waits patiently as bowls and plates are set down and each of them is given a set of chopsticks and a moist, hot cotton cloth. He wipes his hands; he isn't touching the pickles, but it won't hurt to eat one bean and one gyoza, just to be polite.

Conversation starts up again as soon as the waiter has left, as Nishikido offers to feed Yuuya a takoyaki, "the correct way." Kame lets his attention wander again, to give them some privacy, and Jin is near the screens to the maroon corner and for a moment their eyes lock; and quickly, Jin drops his gaze.

Is that guy watching him? Sneaking around, hiding behind potted plants, watching him? Kame frowns, and reaches for his gyoza.

"Nice young man, that," Yamatani says beside him, and it takes Kame a moment to even make the connection because surely Yamatani can't mean… he doesn't mean _him_?

Kame is too thrown to even ask, and looks back at Jin because… well, for one thing, he doesn't want to insult Yamatani's taste by parading his disbelief.

"Do you know Jin?" Yamatani asks, with the restraint that characterizes this place but a hearty undertone that seems to suggest that knowing Jin is somehow a good thing.

"Yes." And he turns back around because Jin's just sitting there, being hapless with some unsuspecting old guy with his back to Kame, and Kame remembers maybe it would be better… "We've met," he says, finds a smile like he did for the baker. "A few times."

Yamatani nods with inexplicable approval. "It's good to see he's settling in," he says cheerfully, "and making friends," and Kame wonders if there's something about Jin's fumbling ways that appeals to old guys, maybe they feel protective of incompetent escorts.

It doesn't matter. Yamatani is a nice, courteous man. Good for him if he gets some value out of that escort.

"Yes," he says again, wipes his hands again on the towel, "good for him," and signals the waiter, catching Jin leaning into… Kame still doesn't recognize the guy.

"Yuuya here is a friend of Jin's," Yamatani is saying, as if Kame even wanted to know that but it puts a halt to the progress on the two-seater and gets the baker looking at him again and the boy with an open, happy expression, nodding, "Jin-senpai! He's been so helpful to me!" and Kame has no idea what to tell these people.

But he knows how to stop people's questions, and he's never going to relax with Jin doing… whatever, _that_ , in the background, and if they're all so keen and Jin can't manage to just stay out of Kame's business, he might as well.

He leans forward a bit, a little confidential, and smiles sheepishly. "I have to confess," he says to Yamatani, "I'm afraid I was a bit short with him earlier." He throws an apologetic glance sideways. "I should really buy him a drink."

He gets up, and worries for one second but sure enough, yes, Jin's by no means the only escort at that table and he doesn't look remotely close to settling a deal, judging from… everything.

And Jin doesn't even see him coming, he's that focussed on not looking at Kame, in his direction, would rather make eyes at some random old guy though he can't even get _that_ to work out.

"Excuse me," Kame says to the man dressed in a conservative banker's outfit, and doesn't let the way Jin's eyes go wide distract him, "I don't mean to intrude, but my friends and I were wondering…" He turns his head towards his table; so do the banker and Jin. Yamatani is smiling over at them and the boy is giving them a quick wave, and even Nishikido is looking encouraging, and for a moment Kame wonders… never mind. "If I'm not interrupting anything with Jin," he adds with a little nod of his head, "I still owe him a drink."

Jin has gone still; he's no longer looking at the little group over by the other table, isn't looking at Kame, either, or at the man he's with. He's looking straight ahead at nothing, and Kame thinks that even if his profile, with the hair back like that, wasn't so aggravating all by itself, this is not the way to 'make friends' or 'settle in' and maybe Yamatani is going to be a little less deluded now.

The man he's been talking to gives Jin a quick look, but it's not like Jin is giving him any clues, and the man's already nodding at Kame, smiling, saying, "of course," and "only too pleased," and various other unimportant things. Kame says polite things back and watches Jin get up without any fuss, bow to make his excuses, and move towards the other table ahead of Kame.

Well, at least he didn't have to steer him across half the club this time, Kame thinks as he follows. Over at his destination, Yamatani frowns a little and Yuuya's smile falters, then recovers, and then they all look disproportionally pleased and inviting when Jin gives a little bow in welcome and steps into the group to sit down…

…on the empty seat next to Yamatani.

What the _hell_ does he think he's doing?

For a moment Kame is glad they're all looking at Jin, not at him, and he gets his expression under control quickly, but the queasy rush takes longer to ebb and his pulse is still fast by the time he reaches his own couch, and he modulates his voice carefully when he sits down and gives everybody except Jin a pleasant smile. "Well, here we are."

The smile he turns on Jin is more pointed. "So what can I get you to drink? I can recommend the whisky, it's an original Scottish malt older than you," he says breezily, notes that Jin fails to look impressed, of course he would, and then something lurches a little inside him when someone _laughs_ at—

Yamatani, laughing, old face crinkling up over the rim of his wine glass. "Older than Kamenashi-san, even," he says with gentle teasing, but he's not laughing _at_ Kame. Yamatani doesn't touch Jin, either, makes no point of Jin's provocative seating choice, or the immediate way Jin has turned his head towards him, remarkably focussed for a guy who specializes in blank. Maybe he was hoping for more of a dig; but he's out of luck there, Yamatani has manners.

"I suppose so," he admits ruefully, and laughs a little, to show he is on board with the joke. "Or do you prefer beer?" he then asks Jin, who can stop looking at Yamatani like that, this little interlude's over. "Why don't I get you some of each." The waiter is by his side as soon as he has lifted his hand. "A double Macallan and a bottle of beer for Jin, please." He casts a quick look around the table. "Would anyone else permit me…"

But they all have half-full glasses still, so he orders another whisky for himself and the waiter leaves.

Nishikido sits back with his wine glass in his hand and gives Jin a brief smile, but then he focuses on Yuuya's happy retelling of his takoyaki education, and Jin makes a labourious effort at looking entertained. Yes, Kame can just see this one being 'a lot of help'.

When the drinks arrive, Jin thanks Kame formally, briefly eyes the whisky, and reaches for the beer.

"Let's toast," Kame says, raising his own whisky glass and pushing Jin's heavy tumbler towards him. "To a more relaxed evening. Kanpai!" He drains his glass in a single go, leaving Jin with no choice but to do the same. The whisky is a nice, warm tingle on the way down.

"That goes down well, doesn't it? Let's get another one," Kame says, ignoring the face Jin makes as he puts the glass down. It takes a bit when all you ever get is beer; Jin can learn. It'll stand him in good stead, because people here like someone who can appreciate quality. Another wave, and two minutes later they have another two glasses in front of them. Kame stays with singles – he's had enough to drink tonight already. But that doesn't mean he can't be generous, and Jin deserves… no, not deserves, but that _was_ rather nice and Kame's evening has improved considerably, now that he can look at Jin with the proper context in mind, remind himself how agreeable he can be.

Jin has said something to Yamatani, something Kame didn't catch, and Yamatani is nodding, and pushing the bowl of spiced tofu cubes towards him in invitation. Jin scrunches up his face and twists his mouth into a juvenile refusal that has no place whatsoever in an environment like this, but Yamatani simply laughs and replaces the bowl with the pickles, of which Jin takes one with a grateful nod.

Just as Kame wonders if Jin is ever going to touch that beer that Kame is paying for or if he's not making it _personal_ enough and maybe he should feed him too, the waiter returns with his second order. Kame accepts it courteously and pushes the new tumbler towards Jin again. "Here you are. Let's make this a toast to… to our esteemed company." He lets his smile flit around the table but allows it to settle meaningfully on Yamatani, whose excessive familiarity with Jin is finally good for something.

Yamatani bows in polite acknowledgement and gives Jin a bright smile when Jin has knocked the drink back in one and sets the glass back down. "You young men want to watch it, though," he says in a congenial tone, "this is strong stuff. Don't underestimate it."

"Thank you for your concern," Kame says pleasantly, while Jin looks at the table top with his lips compressed. "But it's not every day I get to enjoy such splendid company. Sometimes you have to enjoy something good." Yamatani can't disagree with that, and Kame focuses on the unappreciative presence next to him. "Right, Jin?"

Jin takes a moment to raise his eyes, with that false coyness that Kame finds so infuriating, but he reminds himself of his plan for the evening, tries to let it go. The man obviously just can't help it.

"Right," he says, and then seems to remember himself. "Thank you, Kamenashi-san."

"I hope you're not getting too bored with your juice," Kame hears Nishikido say, and Yuuya gives a light little laugh.

"But it's very tasty!" he insists, playing with the straw of his drink. He has one leg up on the by sofa now, his upper body leaning into Nishikido.

"I'll take your word for it," Nishikido says doubtfully.

"Nishikido-san, you're not trying to tempt me," Yuuya says in the sort of lowered voice that is usually an indication for civilized people to turn their attention elsewhere.

Nishikido, who has been buying overpriced fruit juice concoctions for the kid all evening without complaint, seems amused by the suggestion, but his smile quickly grows flushed when Yuuya lets his gaze drop to Nishikido's mouth.

"Besides," Yuuya says, "there are things that tempt me much more than wine," and leans back to whisper in his ear, and Kame just sees Nishikido's flush deepen before he turns away.

Yamatani has been roped into a relaxed exchange with a young man with brown curly hair, the American, over the back of his sofa, and has momentarily turned away from Jin, who is watching that now, the beer ignored on the table. At least it's not likely to disappear discreetly; Kame isn't unaware of the second function of the large plant pots dotted everywhere between the couches.

"Would you like to go to America some time?" Kame asks when he catches pieces of the conversation, mentions of Los Angeles and the Grand Canyon and Californian sushi rolls, and eventually Jin faces him. "You seemed fascinated."

That absurd, guarded look – you can't even help the guy by talking about things he's interested in. But since Kame made the effort, he will insist, keeps up the enquiring look until Jin can no longer ignore it.

"I was just listening," Jin says at the end, blankly, and Kame raises his eyebrows, waits just enough for Jin to lower his eyes.

"I hope I wasn't boring you," he says pleasantly.

"No, of course not, Kamenashi-san." Expressionless now; it would be professional if his profession didn't include being just a little warmer to the guy who's buying him his drink but that's okay, he's found out just what Jin's skills are and that he's far more worthwhile that way.

Kame signals the waiter again; even though his own glass is half full, Jin's is empty and Kame is an attentive patron, _he_ knows how to conduct himself around here. The American finishes his chat with Yamatani and makes brief eye contact, but Kame turns him down politely and discreetly, and he moves on.

When the waiter approaches, Kame orders Jin's whisky, and makes a point of including the others again. This time Nishikido accepts a refill of his Chardonnay and Yuuya, after a silent and layered exchange with Nishikido, asks for something that Kame assumes will be as colourful as the long name.

"And I'd like a tall glass of water, please," Jin says before the waiter can turn away.

That…

Typical, of course – ignoring etiquette, ignoring generosity, making _assumptions_ , nothing new here. And it's just water, so all Kame says is, "Oh, you should have said something earlier! Now you've made me look thoughtless."

Jin says, "It was a spontaneous idea," without any hint of apology or flirtatiousness, and adds, "I hope it's all right," almost as an afterthought.

"But of course," Kame says. "Just tell me if there is anything else you would like. How about some food?"

"No," Jin says, reasonably pleasant but still sadly devoid of actual charm. "Thank you, all the same."

Kame lets it go; he knows not to have too many expectations.

When their drinks arrive, Nishikido toasts Kame with his white wine, Yuuya with the red and pink cocktail glass, and Jin with the water. Kame nods benevolently and takes a sip of his whisky.

"Is that your favourite wine, Nishikido-san?" Yuuya asks when Nishikido puts his glass down on the table. He's a little less entangled, now they have at least one more round to go, but the boy's body is still clearly gravitating towards him.

"It's good," Nishikido says, like someone who's not very theoretical about the kind of drink he likes. Kame thinks that's refreshing; at most functions he attends people talk big about bouquets and noses and things. "I like beer, too," Nishikido confesses, "I just don't want to mix it up." And he nods at Jin, or at his beer, never mind that Yuuya is practically hanging off his shoulder, and he smiles, and… "By the way, Jin," he says, and nobody can be this incompetent, nobody can perk up inappropriately like this and not do it on purpose, "that ramen place you recommended in Shinjuku, it was really good."

Jin looks pleased, as if knowing a good ramen shop… as if suddenly he and that baker have things in _common_ and Kame has nothing to contribute even if he probably knows more about cuisine than the two of them put together. "Did you try the special hot chilli sauce like I said?" he asks, and fair enough. Fair enough. That's probably his level of conversation, maybe the baker hit on the rare thing Jin can form proper sentences about. Ramen.

Nishikido shakes his head. "I didn't feel that brave. I had the pork shiitake."

"Oh, that's nice, too. I like how they slice the bamboo really thin and really wide." Jin is still smiling, his water glass getting warm between his hands and Kame thinks that's quite enough of the culinary exchange.

He leans forward a little, and he, too, knows the tone that has Yamatani studying the rest of the club and makes Nishikido get back to his own business when he says, "You don't like the whisky, Jin?" His glass makes a soft little clink against Jin's and Jin jerks his head up; it shakes some hair into his face and he brushes it back, and something about that long hand obscuring… or maybe just the hair, and it's not like it _matters_ , it's just some _hair_ for god's sake, and Kame doesn't even know how that guy can be so annoying and out of place just _sitting_ there, looking…

He reaches over and tugs that strand back to where it was, and Jin holds his breath but then it's taken care of and it calms Kame down.

Jin swaps water for whisky, nods his thanks again. Of course. Kame should know by now, the man just needs to be taken in hand, whether it's basic polite appreciation or what to do with his mouth around Kame's cock. "Or would you like to try some wine, too? They have an excellent selection here."

"I don't think—" Jin starts but Kame has already caught a waiter's attention.

"Do you prefer red or white?"

There is a pause. Jin looks at him… through him, Kame thinks, and something shifts. And then he… simpers. Badly; it doesn't even reach his eyes, his eyes which are holding Kame's now when he says, loud enough for all to hear, "Oooh, Kamenashi-sama, you wouldn't be trying to get me _drunk_ , now would you!"

Not even trying to sound genuine, flat-out challenge, and so unexpected that Kame doesn't even… he has no ready answer, none that wouldn't embarrass him, all he can do is play along, say, "No, no, of course not," and look sorry and sheepish and sincere for this little audience of four while inside he is _furious_ , how _dare_ he, and that escort had better be ready to deal with the consequences of spoiling every last bit of Kame's relaxed mood and—

The escort flinches, and Kame wants to laugh, but it's nothing to do with him, it's a hand that came onto his shoulder from behind, an intrusive hand which belongs to the Public Prosecutor, and Jin turns around to face the guy, and when he sees who it is he smiles.

Nishikido. Yamatani. Now Kato.

Kame takes a gulp of whisky, starts counting to ten.

At four, he gets interrupted by the cultured voice he has often heard on television. "Kamenashi-san," Kato says politely and a little diffidently, "I wonder if I might speak to Jin for a few minutes."

And never mind that this is preposterous, whatever happened to this club that you can't even sit in peace with your escort anymore, it's at least a chance for Kame to show that he's not unreasonable, that wine thing didn't mean anything, Jin was just being silly, and incompetently silly at that, a flirtation gone wrong. "Of course," he says, rising a little to return Kato's bow. "No problem at all, please, do take your time."

It's only Jin's face at the last few words that makes him realize how they could be misinterpreted, and he quickly adds, "I can wait a little," to make it clear that he isn't giving up all of his rights.

Not that he's even wanting him again. Not that he _did_ want him again an hour ago, anyway, he didn't want him again, ever. But he won't escape that easily, either.

Kato leads the way, to a quiet set of tables and he doesn't sit down, no drinks— not yet anyway, but Kato can see what he'll get for trying to be nice if he goes there, if he keeps Jin there standing around awkwardly, but at least that's something Jin excels at and… Jin is bowing now at whatever Kato said to him and all deferential, and Kame has no idea what sort of game he's playing, what the hell this is supposed to be.

"What would you recommend, Kamenashi-san?" Yamatani asks, and it takes Kame a moment, and too much staring at Yamatani's interested smile, his slightly tilted wine glass, to even find his way back here, all because Jin had to… Jin is just…

"You're a fan of French wines, I seem to recall?"

Nishikido looks at him attentively, eager for another story, and sure, _he_ can be charming and relaxed, he's got his night sorted out and _his_ entertainment is staying put by his side…

"Yes," Kame says finally, and tries to ignore… everything. Because everyone is watching him again. "I am," he nods, and makes himself smile.


	8. Chapter 8

### Tuesday 23 September

"I'm afraid the case has never been closed," Kato says, and Jin feels his pulse speed up – they're really going to talk about this.

Kato has brought them to a quiet corner near the dining tables, laughter and talk and clinking glasses dulled just a little behind one of the tall plants which provides a feeble illusion of privacy. His face is creased with a little frown, and he watches Jin cautiously through his frameless glasses as if he expects him to be disappointed. "There's never been an arrest, so if you were hoping…"

Jin shakes his head quickly. "No, I just…" He doesn't want Kato to think he's looking for someone to blame. He's grateful the man took his request seriously at all, even came to get him when Jin was with… other people, they don't matter just now. "I didn't know anything. I'd just like to know what happened, please."

Kato nods. "Your friend— Shibutani was found dead just after midnight that day near the back entrance of Shinjuku-goenmae station with multiple stab wounds to the chest and abdomen," he tells Jin, calmly and smoothly as if he's reading stats off a card, but he isn't, there's no card, there's just a blurred old pain and an image, because Jin knows the place he means, they sometimes waited around there for johns together and it wasn't a weird place for Subaru to be.

Kato's voice drops some more, sounds different. "But you knew that part, I suppose."

He needs a moment, just a moment. Kato follows a waiter with his eyes without attracting his attention then looks somewhere else altogether.

"I didn't know he was stabbed." There are so many ways to be reckless, so many ways of getting screwed over on the street, and he'd wondered if there'd been other stuff besides the E, stuff that he hadn't noticed. "I didn't even know that." It's a weird, aching sort of relief, just to know.

"The police found no money on him. They assume he was killed for his earnings."

Over ten thousand on a good day, Jin thinks, blurry and dulled. Now he makes this much if he sits with a guy for an hour and picks the right drinks.

"No signs of sexual assault, though there were…" Now Kato looks a bit like he'd quite like there to be a card he can turn to, and Jin lowers his eyes, doesn't want to make him uncomfortable. "They tracked down the last two clients he had, based on witness statements, and they were cleared." He meets Jin's eyes and maybe he sees the doubt, or maybe he was doubtful himself. "Really cleared. Witnesses saw them leave."

"I see," Jin says. It wouldn't make a difference either. It's just facts, finally.

"The coroner found traces of MDMA in his blood," Kato goes on, "though he must have taken it a few hours before his death. His blood alcohol level was point zero six."

"That's… that's not too bad, right?"

Kato looks at him for a moment, and seems to shift gears. "He was a little drunk, but not out of it," he says. "Especially for someone who's used to a certain alcohol intake, it wasn't too bad, no."

"Okay," Jin says. "Okay, that's…" Not good, really, not bad, not anything anymore but it still matters, Subaru was not just stupid. "…okay."

"The report mentioned a roommate," Kato says, a calm question at the end, if Jin wants to answer it.

Jin thinks that's fair, of course the man would wonder, and it's not meant as a threat. "Yes, that was me." And he'd left the apartment behind with less than he'd had moving into it. "I got home and I saw the cops and I didn't know… I just took off."

Kato simply nods. "You weren't a suspect," he tells Jin, matter-of-fact. "Or not anymore, after the first few days. They wanted to ask you a few questions. But I understand." He doesn't mention drugs, and maybe there weren't any that day, maybe Subaru had run out, but it wasn't a risk Jin could take.

And he'd tried, found out enough to know that Subaru was dead, not arrested or… or just gone like… Naoki had at least left a note. But there hadn't been many people he could talk to with cops showing up randomly at their hangouts and at the youth center…

"I don't think I know anything that might help," he says, "but if you think the police would still like to talk to me…"

Kato looks a little uncomfortable. "I'm afraid the case is no longer being treated as a priority," he says, which probably means that he had to dig the file out of some dusty archive where they keep all the dead hustlers and other nobodies. "If there's no vital new evidence…"

Jin shakes his head, and Kato gives a regretful little shrug.

"Thank you," Jin says quickly, before the man can decide to feel guilty or anything. "Thank you, that's… I'm glad I finally know what happened. I really appreciate it." He bows low, and again when Kato says that he was glad he could help and Jin insists that it was very generous of him.

"If there's ever—" He wants to say… but what can someone like him offer that would be appropriate, and so he just bows again, and finally Kato tells him it's quite all right, and Jin lets the man get back to his table.

Jin stares at something on the floor in front of him, something that isn't there. He's glad he knows. He is; and he hopes it was at least quick. Subaru was a good guy, and Jin's not sure he'd have survived that winter if Subaru hadn't taken him in. And now he's here, and Subaru…

But he has to stop thinking about Subaru, it'll have to wait. Because now he's got to handle Kamenashi again. Maybe he should just crawl into Yamatani's lap Yuuya-style so he'll finally make a move and get Jin out of there and to a room, but that's not how they work and he doesn't want to embarrass Yamatani, either.

Right. At least he's not going to have another drop of alcohol, and if Kamenashi wants to flip his lid, he's welcome.

He turns towards their table and—

—meets Kamenashi's eyes, and he's not even surprised but his heart skips anyway.

Kamenashi smiles winsomely.

Creep.

Jin starts walking.

Nishikido and Yuu-chan are absorbed in their own little world, gazing at each other over the cocktails they're toasting with, and Yamatani is watching them with a pleased little smile, doesn't notice Jin either.

Jin decides to nudge him when he's back, some discreet body language to get them to a room and away from here. Yamatani would give him space, would give him five minutes if he asked just to… think, away from the chatter and the clients and the glitz, and maybe he'd ask Jin what's up and maybe, maybe Jin would even tell him, just a bit about the time when he'd been grateful just to know that there was somebody who cared if he even made it home alive. Until one day that person… didn't.

He could do with some talking, just talking, just a tiny little bit.

When he gets close, Kamenashi gets up, his smile expansive and welcoming, and he steps into the gap between couch and table that Jin would need to pass to get to his old seat, and says, "Glad you haven't abandoned us, Jin, why don't you sit down?"

His hands are surprisingly strong, and unless Jin wants to make a scene he has no choice but to sit down on the other end of Kamenashi's two-seater, far from Yamatani.

Nishikido welcomes him back, and Yuuya gives him a quick grin, his fingers entwined with the baker's between them both. That's a done deal if Jin's ever seen one, and he's glad for Yuu-chan, Nishikido's a nice guy and Yuu-chan could do much, much—

"I'm sorry," Kamenashi says, a light shift in the upholstery when he sits down next to Jin, "where were we?"

 _So_ much worse.

He should have just left. He blew some bland suit before Kamenashi dragged him off and two relaxations is okay, is _good_ for a Tuesday and the only reason he's here is because he didn't want to let Yamatani down but Yamatani…

"You were telling us about shooting in two different languages," Nishikido is saying, sounding eager, and then he adds brightly, "Oh, let me this time!"

Jin doesn't even get it at first, but when he sneaks a glance beside him he figures Kamenashi must have been fondling his empty glass, and then Nishikido is looking at him, nice guy that he is, and asks, "Can I get you something, too, Jin?"

He won't turn that down. But he doesn't want any more booze, he can still feel those fast drinks oh so considerately supplied by Kamenashi and he needs his wits about him if he's still got to deal with… that. "Thank you very much, Nishikido-san. I'd like some orange juice, please."

"You could try one of mine!" Yuuya says immediately, twirling his empty cocktail glass around and nodding encouragingly. He plucks the last pink cherry off the rim before he hands the glass over to the waiter and slips it into his mouth.

Nishikido tears his eyes away and turns his smile on Jin. "Yes, sure! Try it if you want to."

They do look interesting. Maybe it'll distract him for a bit, not like he can't use it. "Thank you very much," he says again. "I'll have one of those green things, then. With the sugar."

Then he freezes, with Kamenashi's hand on his shoulder. "Is everything all right, Jin?" And he has to turn, has to look at the guy, he's not going to embarrass anyone. "I hope nothing bad happened." And the soft, concerned tone is just _creepy_ , that mannered nod towards where he and Kato-sensei were talking and he's not going to be scared of that look in Kamenashi's eyes, he's not, not in the middle of the damn _lounge._

"I'm fine, thank you," he says, and manages not to shake off that touch. "I didn't mean to interrupt. You were telling a story about filming?"

"I was," Kamenashi says, sharp focus and unreadable meaning fixing Jin a moment longer, but then he goes back to his story and Jin takes a breath.

Apparently Kamenashi did some film in France, and loved it very much, and was worried about foreign language dialog, and didn't love that so much, and Jin doesn't care at all but Kamenashi talking is Kamenashi distracted, and the hand never disappears and doesn't move either, and maybe someone should encourage him to learn French and move there, that would be a help.

Their new round arrives; it's taken a bit longer with the cocktail, and when they all thank Nishikido and Kamenashi's fingers start to wander on his back, Jin catches Yamatani's eyes over his new glass of wine, his kind smile, and he's never been so focussed on the way Yamatani looks at him when he lowers his eyes along Jin's body. He catches himself calculating how much Yamatani has had and if there's even a chance; normally they'd be out of here already and he wouldn't have to sit here with some freak hovering next to him, inching closer moment by moment.

He leans forward, concentrates on the straw sticking out of the tall glass. One thing's for sure, _he's_ not going to be doing anything interesting with the slices of fruit decoration.

The green stuff tastes… not really green. But interesting. Sort of creamy, and sharp at the same time. Jin wishes there was a miracle potion to clear his head.

And they're back on the film again, and Nishikido seems to be a fan of that French actress Kamenashi worked with, or maybe just that particular film, confessing that he really enjoyed their on-screen chemistry, and Jin can only pity the poor lady.

"She's wonderful," Kamenashi is saying, the heel of his hand pressing briefly against Jin's shoulder blade, but even when he holds his breath and waits he can't figure out what that meant. He finds Yamatani's eyes again, and it's some comfort to see him watching still even though he shows no sign of begrudging Kamenashi having his hands all over Jin, but that would be because he's _sane_. Jin takes another sip of his drink and keeps the straw between his lips, tries to… god, it's not his thing, how does that even work? Maybe he should take lessons from Yuuya.

"We had so much fun together," Kamenashi is saying, and it's no wonder he stars in all those uplifting films that tell you to try harder for the poor whatevers because he can sell the sincerity, no doubt. "It was the most relaxed set I've ever worked on."

"She came to Japan then, too, for that half of the film?" Nishikido asks, and Jin starts when the hand disappears but Kamenashi, leaning forward a little, just needs it to gesture denial at Nishikido.

"Yes, she did, but the best parts were…" He's smiling. It looks reluctant and slow, almost real. "It was much better when we were there." He looks down at his wine glass, and then back up at Nishikido with an expression Jin can't read.

"Why was that?" Yuuya asks curiously, and Jin can see Nishikido is just dying to know, too. Not Jin's idea of a clever move, prodding Kamenashi, but apparently Kamenashi's crazy is selective.

"Oh, it was just…" Kamenashi waves it off. "Everyone got on so well." And then there's a smile again, a small one, and Jin guesses there's a reason Kamenashi makes a fortune _acting_ and why people like… well, fair enough, Kamenashi doesn't tie _them_ down or treat them like more or less useful body parts… though maybe he should warn Yuu-chan.

"…this one day," Kamenashi is saying, "when the catering service just didn't appear but one of the camera crew had this cousin who runs a bakery and they just sent us some fresh bread and cheese, and Zoe smuggled in some wine in a coffee flask, and we had to made sure to hide it from the director…"

"You were sneaking around with alcohol!" Yuuya says, joyfully scandalized.

"In lidded paper cups," Kamenashi nods. "That was an excellent meal. So simple but…" His eyes flash up, which would normally make Jin worry but for once it's not directed at him. "Nishikido-san!"

Nishikido is already grinning. "We're thinking about it!"

"You'll have to warn people it's not sweet," Kamenashi says. "You should have seen my face when I had my first bite." They all laugh and Jin guesses he's re-enacting it but he's stopped looking, he has more important things on his mind and maybe if he can just get Yamatani's attention while Kamenashi is busy charming people, he'll finish the night in a room with someone who doesn't need to insult people to get off.

Just as he's getting ready to catch the man's eye, though, Yamatani says, "I had a French friend whom I visited occasionally. We met at a Word Trade Fair for, well, laundry equipment, back in the seventies in England, and spent the main conference dinner complaining about the food." He shakes his head in awed reminiscence. "It was really quite, quite terrible. But I felt he had no grounds for complaint because after all, these people eat snails, to which he retorted that I couldn't talk because after all, my people eat raw fish."

"What's their problem with raw fish?" Jin asks, mostly to remind Yamatani he's there. But Danny seems to find sashimi normal.

Yamatani gives him a fatherly smile. "Back then, Westerners were very conservative in their eating habits. So I proceeded to shock him with accounts of prawn feet and eel spine tempura. He wouldn't believe me that people would eat such things or, if they did, admit to it."

"But he ate snails?" Yuuya says, with a face that mirrors Jin's sentiments exactly.

"They aren't so bad," Yamatani says. "Kamenashi-san, did you try them when you had an opportunity?"

"I had one," Kamenashi says politely. "I didn't like the texture. But I tried frog legs, too. They were okay."

"Like chicken wings, but less rewarding," Nishikido adds.

"What happens to the rest of the frog?" asks Yuuya. "Is there frog breast? Frog steaks?"

Nishikido laughs and ruffles his hair, and when he trails his hand down Yuuya's back Yuuya wriggles down into a happy embrace.

"It is an unsolved mystery," Yamatani says, and winks at Jin.

Winking is good. Jin smiles, puts some suggestion into it, a hint of hope. It's going on ten, and Yamatani doesn't often stay beyond eleven. Jin's good to go, if only—

Kamenashi's hand settles heavily on his thigh, and when he looks, Kamenashi has dropped the blatant good humour, is regarding him intently. "Wouldn't you say so, Jin."

Jin's not even going to try to fake his way out of there. "I'm sorry, I missed that."

There's a stillness in Kamenashi's gaze which he doesn't like at all, but in the end the man only says, "If you are getting tired, I shall be happy to buy you some espresso. After all," and here he lets his gaze travel across to where Nishikido and Yuuya are entwined, and his fingers move just a little up the inside of Jin's leg, "the night is only beginning."

That sounds bad, feels bad, in so many ways, and why isn't Yamatani making a move already? Does he really want to talk about snails and frog steak all night? And what the hell does Kamenashi even want, he's _had_ his moment of feeling all superior, he got his rocks off, he doesn't even _want_ Jin… unless that was an act, with Ootomo, just like that happy clappy France act earlier, and the way he acts with Tatsuya, maybe this guy is nothing _but_ acts and they're all different and Jin's the unlucky bastard who got stuck with the full-on psycho number.

And Nishikido is standing and he's holding Yuu-chan's hand, pulling him up and towards him with a smile. "…don't you think," he is saying, and Yuuya nods eagerly. "And at midnight you can have a sip of champagne from my glass, and we won't tell anybody."

Yuuya looks like this is the most dangerous and exciting venture ever and slinks closer to Nishikido.

Good, Jin thinks, good for him, Nishikido will treat him right, and then he thinks _shit_ , because that leaves him with… and… he doesn't know how to handle this, with Yamatani being no help.

"We'll keep your secret," Kamenashi says, pulling Jin's thigh closer towards him and _damn_.

They nod happily, and while Nishikido excuses himself with a slightly embarrassed grin, Yuuya gives a little wave and throws Jin an encouraging look as he turns away.

And then there's just the three of them, and Jin seeks Yamatani's gaze, tries to ignore Kamenashi and the way the guy's fingers are crawling up his inseam, this can't just… happen.

Nishikido and Yuuya are approaching the screens in front of the elevators, happily hand in hand, Yuu-chan looking up to Nishikido and saying something or other and Nishikido looking down and smiling.

"That appealed to you, did it," Kamenashi's voice cuts into his thoughts, and he can tell by the edge that the man knows what he was thinking, knows that he'd rather be in Yuuya's shoes than stuck here on a couch being groped by this… by a… by Kamenashi.

He shoots Yamatani a look, tries to look inviting, tries to look a little hurt that they aren't naked in a room already, but maybe he should go to the Kamenashi school of acting because he doesn't seem to be getting the point across.

"That's no problem," Kamenashi says, while his voice says 'whore, you have a problem here'. "We can make your midnight sip anything you like."

Yamatani. There's got to be a way to get him to say something, to point out, politely, ever so politely, that he's got dibs on Jin, Tuesdays are… well, it's never official because Yamatani is around so much, it doesn't really matter to him if they shift it by a day either way, and normally Jin likes that about him but right now… can't he be a bit more desperate?

Yamatani smiles. It's a 'good for you' smile, a 'pleased for Jin' smile, a smile that makes Jin give up hope before Yamatani even opens his mouth.

"You young men have fun," he says, and Jin knows what it is, it's that Kamenashi _looks_ like a client Jin might prefer, and he's just made it clear that he's offering a comfort, and Yamatani is old and wrinkly and has bad knees and all he's offering tonight is a relaxation, and he has no idea that Jin would gladly take that, he likes Yamatani and he'd take somebody he _doesn't_ like over Kamenashi, but… "We can make it tomorrow, maybe?" Yamatani says to Jin, and Jin nods mutely. Produces a smile. Finds his voice.

"That would be good," he says over the screaming in his head. And Yamatani is smiling back at him so he dredges up some other words from somewhere. "I'm looking forward to it."

Three hours. Three more hours of Kamenashi.

But at least it's the club this time, people don't just know where he is, they're all around, and he knows this place, knows it well.

Kamenashi plays polite as he thanks Yamatani for his indulgence, but when he turns to Jin, his look is openly satisfied. "Whenever you're ready."

Kamenashi's wine glass is still almost full. Jin drains the rest of his cocktail, sets the glass back on the table and says, "I'm ready."

It earns him a sharp glance and for once he wants to smile into it, but he's not as stupid as _that_. Just watches Kamenashi push his own glass aside, and rise. "Let's go."

*~*~*

Kamenashi says nothing when he unlocks the door. Standard room again, they're all pretty much the same, except this one is on the inside of the floor and has skylights to make up for the four solid walls.

He waves Jin through then closes the door behind them, and Jin stops after a few steps, silent on the thick carpet, and doesn't look up at the stars, remembers not to feel trapped.

Kamenashi indicates he's welcome to use the toilet. Jin's quick about it, doesn't need to stall. He's in the club, he knows exactly where the panic button is, and if Kamenashi wants to insult him some more, fine, he'll think of the job and the pay and being out of here in a few hours. It's just fucking. Drying off his hands, he thinks that between the two of them they don't even have enough ties for sudden bondage urges.

Kamenashi goes in after him, and Jin takes his jacket off and hangs it on the stand beside the couch.

When Kamenashi comes back out, he goes over to the minibar and turns over one of the heavy glasses. "I'd offer you a drink," he says, "but I wouldn't want to get you _worried_." The narrow look he gives Jin when he leans against the polished wood, glass still in hand, says he doesn't mind Jin worried at all.

Jin ignores the tone, ignores the baiting. "Some water will be fine, thank you," he says, and waits.

Kamenashi puts the glass back down and doesn't get him anything. Stands and regards Jin, and Jin knows that look, the one where they undress you with their eyes, waiting for you to catch up. Good; if he's going to be as fast about this as he was about the blow job, Jin can live with that. Not like slow will get you to nice, with this guy.

He reaches for his tie but he's barely loosened the knot when Kamenashi's voice stops him, harsh and cutting. "Would have liked to go with that old man," Kamenashi says. "Wouldn't you."

Jin lets his hands drop. He'll probably want to be dressed for this. He doesn't say yes, but he won't deny it, either.

"Wonder what _he's_ got to do to get you to play nice," Kamenashi says. "Or maybe he doesn't, maybe you get to do whatever you want. Is that what you like, is that why you were so desperate?"

Oh, to hell with him. He knows it looked desperate, _was_ desperate, but with anybody _normal_ it would never have happened like that and he's not embarrassed, only sorry that he can't tell Kamenashi everything he'd rather do for a guy like Yamatani before he'd choose to spend ten minutes in a room with an asshole like _him_.

"Or do you just like them old?"

"I like them s—" Jin stops himself, rule sixteen of Johnny's, don't question your client's sanity. But Kamenashi is looking at him encouragingly, all insistent curiosity and somehow he can't leave that dangling when it's Yamatani, when Kamenashi thinks he's _better_ , as if anyone would prefer…

"Civil," he finishes, for lack of a better alternative.

"Really," Kamenashi says slowly, without moving. "Is that what you call it." Lets that hang in the air as if Jin's going to elabourate, stares at him in the dim light of the single lamp, half his face in shadow. "Well. I noticed he didn't seem too eager to make a claim."

"Yeah, he knows what's polite." And it feels good to see it hit home in Kamenashi's eyes, and like very very bad news, but he'd care more if… no, Kamenashi can't take that to Ootomo, he was just saying… let Kamenashi try to turn that against him, just let him try.

"I'm surprised you're so fond," Kamenashi says at last. "Guy like that must be a lot of work for you, even if he's… civil." He takes a predictable step forward and of course, it'll be orders and sucking and fucking next, and _whatever_.

"I don't comment on valued clients," Jin replies, and thinks for a hysterical moment that Ootomo would be so proud.

"And the baker, is he civil? Seems to find your mumbling and fumbling charming at any rate," Kamenashi muses but it's not so idle now, not so satisfied, and then he's close enough to touch and Jin focuses on things that help, that help with any client, that Kamenashi smells clean and showers and gets hard fast, doesn't taste weird. "And the prosecutor! What a busy night for you indeed."

Something in Jin freezes because that… "That was different," he says even though it's none of Kamenashi's business but this is wrong, this is a guy who did Jin a huge favour and he can at least set the record straight even if he'd bite off his tongue before telling _Kamenashi_ what that meant to him. "We were just talking."

Kamenashi's eyebrows shoot up. "Talking?" He looks very intrigued now, his flat palm warm through Jin's shirt. "Japan's chief prosecutor, degrees from top universities, what would you and an elite like that talk about?" Fucking asshole. "Didn't think you'd appeal to the brainy ones."

"Right," Jin says tightly because he can't pass that up, he can't, not when Kamenashi makes it so _easy_ … "Is that why I'm here with you?"

And Jin's shoulders hit the wall, Kamenashi's hand in his hair, Kamenashi's whole body trapping him, and then Kamenashi's mouth is by his ear, hissing, "But you're not here for conversation." And Kamenashi's hand is fast on his belt, on his fly, down his pants, and he jerks away but the hand in his hair pulls tight and there's a mouth on his, a hard kiss forcing his lips open and Kamenashi's other hand wrapping around his cock, pressure and pull and what the _fuck_ and a tongue pushing inside his mouth, and Kamenashi's hand moving, firm, warm and it's fast, fuck it's fast and _fuck_ that whisky…

"See," Kamenashi breathes, right against his face, and Jin wants to sink away from him, wants not to be hard, wants to stop feeling— "I don't _need_ to get you drunk." And kisses him again, messy and mean and the stroking keeps… god, and then Kamenashi bends Jin's head back against the wall and swipes his tongue up his neck and his hand on Jin moves, and moves, and there's a flick and again and Jin shudders and closes his eyes and holds his breath.

"Still rather go with the old guy?" Kamenashi whispers against his ear, and fuck _yes_ because he wouldn't be like this with his head spinning, with Kamenashi's breath hot and cold on his wet skin and Kamenashi moving on him and pressing into him, all along his body now and Kamenashi's hips give him a slow little nudge and another one, and it doesn't help, it doesn't _help_. "Or Nishikido, or Kato, or any of those guys you seem to like so much…"

Jin bites his lip, stifles a gasp when that mouth is on his throat, and when it moves he can't, it just slips out, a shameful little noise when the suction turns to teeth and Kamenashi breathes against him fierce and the hand on his cock does… something, warm dry faster and tighter and faster and he's not… he doesn't… he can't… and he _knows_ and… "You sure seemed popular tonight." A sharp scrape of teeth against his jaw and he jerks, gasps into a rough tug, and he's lost, he's coming with a choking sound, coming and panting, and sweating, and the hand on him won't stop and _he_ can't stop and—

Fuck.

Oh fuck.

He's not going to be embarrassed. He's not. And maybe he doesn't quite have his breath back but Kamenashi is right there in his face, smug and pleased and Jin stops straining against the hand in his hair, eases his head back, because he's not the one who's crazy and pathetic and— "Jealous?" he breathes.

For a moment Kamenashi seems even closer. Then he pulls out his hand, slippery with Jin's come, and wipes it carefully on Jin's shirt. He holds Jin's eyes and traces along Jin's collar with his fingertips, a ghosting touch, too light and too much on Jin's skin. "Just not popular enough for any of them to pay to fuck you tonight." He gives his own hand a fleeting glance, smiles a sharp little smile at Jin. "And I'm so glad we've established how _civil_ you like it."

He steps in close again, close enough for their legs to touch and Jin feels the wall unyielding at his back and he wants to shut it all down but he can't, he's still responding, still shivery.

"Now start with your shirt," Kamenashi says calmly, and his hand never lets go of Jin's hair. "It's not fair if you have all the fun, is it?"

Fine. Undressing. That's easy. Really easy. He brings up his hands, keeps them close because Kamenashi is close, close and warm and turned on and he doesn't need to feel Jin's hands trembling but getting off a tie, that's easy. Really easy.

Kamenashi's forearm is tense against the side of Jin's face and he's watching like he's waiting for something, for Jin to struggle probably cause there's nothing like some cheap domination to make an asshole's night complete, so Jin relaxes his neck and meets Kamenashi's eyes, drops the silk to the side. See? Really easy, and his heart rate is slowing down, too.

Kamenashi nods slowly. Buttons now.

He manages the first one; when his hand drops down to the next, Kamenashi reaches out, puts two fingers on the base of his throat and just— hovers, strokes a bit, ominous and unnerving, but Jin doesn't swallow and he doesn't drop his gaze and he manages the second button and moves on. His skin prickles under Kamenashi's fingertips as they follow him down, prod him when he gets caught, and he starts to hurry, away from that hand and that's stupid. Makes everything just harder, those small buttons and his sweaty fingers and Kamenashi looming like this. Would help if he could look at what he's doing. Would help if he could move his head.

Kamenashi's looking.

Seems fascinated by the whole clumsy mess, his cock hard against Jin's hip and an elbow heavy on his shoulder, and when Jin is finally done with the last button he runs his palm flat down Jin's stomach and Jin sucks in a breath because it tickles, or would tickle if he hadn't just come, right now it's too intense.

Kamenashi lifts his head, flicks his hand against the sides of Jin's shirt and Jin wants to point out that if Kamenashi's in a hurry to get to the fucking there are more efficient ways to get Jin out of his clothes than this. But whatever, he won't argue with Kamenashi's logic and Kamenashi's logic seems to require him being held immobile by his hair and pressed against a fucking wall forever and what _is_ that guy's fascination with his face anyway.

Because Kamenashi is staring again; giving Jin room a bit to pry his shoulderblades from plaster and paint and get out of the shirt before he leans back in, slow and deliberate and with a little thrust to keep himself entertained but with his eyes on Jin and like he doesn't even _care_ that Jin is doing a good job of staring back disinterestedly, and maybe he should stop wondering what's going on in the guy's mind because the answer can't be good.

Kamenashi's eyes drop to his mouth, and Jin's braced for a kiss but instead he gets a sharp tug at his hair, and then Kamenashi's mouth— on his neck, hot and open and Jin keeps the gasp in now and if he closes his eyes, well, Kamenashi won't see, Kamenashi's _busy_. Busy and moving, and Jin holds his breath when Kamenashi's tongue flicks over his collarbone on the way to a nipple, latches on, hint of teeth and he hates this when he's just come but he won't give the bastard any satisfaction, won't even twitch.

And now the hands move – at least those can't bite; over his shoulders and arms, back around his shoulderblades and fingertips tracing his spine. Down. Struggling a bit because, hello, there's a fucking _wall_ there, but just as he thinks what fun it'll be to see how Kamenashi reconciles his squashing and fondling needs, he's pulled forward, and Kamenashi's hands are fast and certain and at his waistband and fingertips are sliding inside, pushing down, and then Kamenashi moves flush against him as the underwear goes and the hands stay, the buckle of Kamenashi's belt cold against his skin, and the touch on his ass holds him still for a slow, thoughtful grind and Kamenashi breathes against his mouth, warm and brazen, and smiles.

The wall's almost better.

Kamenashi's eyes drop to his mouth and Jin holds his breath again, thinks how weird this is from a guy who barely considers him worthy to suck his cock but— the kiss doesn't come, just another slow thrust, and Kamenashi makes some awkward motion with an elbow, raises his chin in a random little nod.

"Come on, take them off," he says, "you're not going to need them."

Oh, _sure_. With Kamenashi clutching him and humping him, he's supposed to get off the fucking pants, of _course_. Kamenashi watches him squirm and struggle and he's got to be feeling every wriggle and the way he keeps up his private little grinding session isn't fucking helping any, and when Jin's finally got his pants down his thighs he straightens and stares right back into Kamenashi's heavy eyes because it's not like he can reach any further here unless Kamenashi lets him the fuck _go_.

Kamenashi lets his hands wander, down Jin's ass and on his legs, around, up again while he studies Jin, looking untroubled and satisfied except for the hard-on that's pushing against Jin's thigh, and then the hands settle on Jin's shoulders. Press down, and Jin gets it.

He's not required to stand anymore anyway.

It's okay once he's got the pants down far enough, just more awkward with Kamenashi not bothering to give him space and his damn knees right… okay, fine, he's cramped but fine even if his face is right in Kamenashi's crotch, and hey, they've almost got a routine from here. Jin keeps his hands to himself when Kamenashi presents his cock and he just takes a breath, it's hot in this small space, when Kamenashi grabs his hair again and pulls his head back to… okay, like that. Sure. Walls tonight, all the way.

Then Kamenashi takes a step to follow, his shoe right there between Jin's legs and… best not to think about that, best just to open his mouth and let Kamenashi shove his cock in and suck.

He hopes this is just foreplay. Kamenashi mumbles some encouragement, pushes in deep once but there's no follow-through, and it's jerky, this could take a while this time round and it's not exactly comfortable already, with his head pinned to the wall and the heat and Kamenashi's entire body crowding him, and the random rough thrusts that aren't even rhythmic.

And Kamenashi's in no hurry with what he's doing, just keeps his grip tight while he rolls his hips, _experiments_ , changes angle, depth, all up to him now but it figures, Jin's just a pretty mouth to fuck, not required to contribute, to adjust, to… breathe, he focuses on breathing when it's easiest, when Kamenashi pulls back far before going deep, and he tunes out the sweat and the heat and the sound of Kamenashi exhaling when he finds something he likes, and at least the guy is keeping his commentary to himself this time.

Just keeps going, a persistent pace now, and Jin holds still. If he doesn't try to move he won't feel how much he can't. He ignores the knee moving right in front of his stomach, the foot between his legs. Holds really still when Kamenashi brings up his other hand to join the party, settling it damp and insisting on Jin's face even though he hasn't anywhere left to go, and the air around him just gets tighter.

But then Kamenashi tilts him just so, and… maybe he's got himself sorted out at last because… okay, yes, the rhythm picks up now, and maybe it's the extra kick he gets out of tracing Jin's lips around his cock going in and out and it gets fast, hard and fast and full in his mouth, and Jin's head bumps into the wall before the grip on his hair tightens, adjusts for the rougher pace, and he hopes they're getting somewhere soon, he wants that hand out of his face and he wants to _breathe_.

But it goes on, and he tries to ignore as much as he can, focuses on keeping his mouth open, just taking it, not pushing the asshole away, and then it stops. Kamenashi's cock pulls out with a wet sound, and the heavy hand lifts and there's _air_ and he blinks, breathes, and Kamenashi's standing there with his cock pointed straight at Jin's face and what the _fuck_. He twists his head away and fuck that hurts, and when he stills Kamenashi lets go of his hair, finally, like it's an afterthought, and he's frowning down at Jin like Jin's some weirdo he can't puzzle out, now there's a joke.

But…fine, that _was_ stupid. Jin knew the guy wasn't even close, and it's not surprising he wants a change now, he's had a blow job already and he didn't pay for a comfort just so he could get _Jin_ off.

He tries not to look relieved, about those hands gone at last or anything else, just waits and looks up into the darkened eyes which are unreadable now, and it's like an eternity before Kamenashi lifts one shoulder, half shrug and half instruction, and says, "I think I prefer to fuck you this time."

And steps back, and Jin gets up shakily and bends to untie his shoes and stops looking at Kamenashi, taking a daring chance that Kamenashi has no secret kink about seeing whores wobble around with their pants around their ankles.

He straightens when he's done, and Kamenashi nods towards the bed. Yeah, he could have guessed that. He gets over there, ignores Kamenashi behind him and the staring he can feel, sits down and shifts back, legs stretched out in front of him, and waits. Kamenashi has followed him to the side of the bed but doesn't say anything, and Jin's not going to assume anything either, will just stay put. Another one of those long intrusive glances and then Kamenashi drops his fancy pants where he's standing, unbuttons his shirt, loses the underpants. Guy likes to fuck naked. Maybe Kamenashi should look into that, it's so _normal_.

Kamenashi's eyes creep all along his body, and Jin sits still on the big bed and reminds himself he's used to being here, it's not that different just because Kamenashi's an asshole. The panic button is right over there.

When Kamenashi moves he doesn't get on the bed, he goes for the nightstand, snatches out a condom and he's already torn it open before Jin can look away.

He tears open another pack. Gets himself slick too, completely unembarrassed.

So, fast. Fast works for Jin. He just wants to get out of here.

Then the bed dips under Kamenashi's weight and… Jin's confused, a hand on his shoulder and Kamenashi's right there, wrong for everything, before Kamenashi pushes him, prods him until he's lying on his side.

Kamenashi settles behind him, close.

Weird and intimate when he can't see the guy but he'll deal, and then Kamenashi shifts, warm here and slick and cool there and fingers spreading him and Jin knows how to breathe, and open up. He feels Kamenashi's breath on the back of his neck as he slips inside, one long exhalation. He's hard enough. All that wall action. A lazy grind, Kamenashi's arm wrapping around him.

Not fast. Not what Jin had hoped for.

Kamenashi's hand trails over him, curious like before when Jin couldn't see, couldn't move, and Jin still doesn't move except to go with the nudges, a sloppy rhythm, Kamenashi tracing his muscles, keeping him close.

There's deep pleased breaths, not the least bit self-conscious, like he doesn't care what Jin hears. His hand is random on Jin's chest, his stomach, for a moment it tickles but then Kamenashi moves again inside him.

It's distracting and he hates it. Hates the hands and the warmth at his back, the damp air at his neck, and that it won't go faster, it won't go… anywhere. Kamenashi's not even trying, just fucking leisurely like he's got all the time in the world and Jin can just wait it out.

If he thinks of Jin at all.

Kamenashi's fingers have found his dick, play with it, surprisingly gentle. They probe and tug like Kamenashi's never touched a dick before and it goes on and on, casual like he owns Jin.

"You're not too bad like this either," Kamenashi whispers thickly against Jin's neck. "I should take my time more. Least you're good value like that."

Just the vote of confidence he was looking for. Kamenashi's hand slides into Jin's hair, pulls his head back and Jin twitches; it's as far as he gets in terms of running away when he knows he can't, and Kamenashi gasps, and the next push comes harder. He's liking it. More weight behind it that tips Jin forward, Kamenashi moving him a little bit that way so he can like it more.

It's one thing Jin just doesn't get. He doesn't like touching people he hates. But Kamenashi's happy, his hand spreading out over Jin's back, feeling all the tension, some real thrusts now when Jin stretches a certain way.

Those fingers curl around his hips with instructions, and Kamenashi goes deeper with a gasp, as if Jin's hips yielding to his rhythm is the hottest thing ever. Jin just wants to squirm away; Kamenashi's been too close too long already and it sucks and his skin no longer knows where he feels Kamenashi most. But even Kamenashi can't last forever.

Jin keeps his eyes shut and his face down, it's hot against the sheet but he can't turn his head, wishes Kamenashi would push him flat already. Wishes he could do shopping lists in his head or remember English words and didn't get sidetracked by what's happening to his body.

Other guys grope him too, and he hates it and he doesn't know why this is worse unless it's that Kamenashi makes everything worse.

On and on it goes. Above him Kamenashi shifts without comment, moves him a little too, whenever he wants a new angle. Nudges his knees wider apart, wraps around him and goes deep. Deep but no chase, no urgency, maybe he wants to prove Jin wrong about forever. Maybe he's just really having fun.

He says nothing. It's like Jin's not even there, except for getting fucked.

On and on. And more shifting, and some air between their sticky skin, and Kamenashi is kneeling, a deeper slant, sharper thrusts. Finally. A few of those and the push comes, Jin's flat down at last and Kamenashi pulls his hips towards him.

Wants… nothing much still. This and that, go in like _this_ and like _so_ , it feels like a test drive and it makes him crazy. _Playing around_ , the fucking version. He hates that he can't tune it out, usually when it's just his ass and some guy he can manage not to _care_.

"Higher," Kamenashi says when it's not enough, and has Jin scramble back on his knees; Kamenashi tilts his hips up more with firm hands, holds him open for shallow dips over and over, and Jin can feel him _watching_ it.

When he finally slams down it's a relief; Kamenashi spreads him wider and there's the rhythm, thrusts going deep, easy at last.

Kamenashi's hand is back in his hair, tight, controlling, pushing him down in the mattress but Jin doesn't mind, it's raw and rough but they will be _done_ , and he manages to turn his head so he can breathe at least and just hangs on, lets Kamenashi use whatever force he likes to take what he bought, and now it will stop, it _will_ stop.

Finally Kamenashi gasps loud, fingers digging into Jin's hip as he jerks against him, getting his money's worth on the last few slams and the weight on Jin's back gets even harder and then he stills, then it's over.

He sinks forward when Kamenashi lets go of his hair, the hand coming down on the back of his neck, stroking over his shoulder, sweaty and casual all the way down to his ass and who cares, let him get his last few gropes in before he… right, here they go.

He gives Kamenashi time to get off the bed before he stretches out his legs and turns around. Kamenashi is halfway to the bathroom and Jin sits up, rolls his neck a little, carefully. A long hot shower will take care of that. A long hot shower he'd like sooner rather than later, and here's hoping Kamenashi doesn't change his pattern and won't make Jin hang around for the full three hours. But since the guy's been clear about having no use for Jin outside of fucking, Jin might just get lucky.

Lucky.

He's not going to contemplate the fact that the first time Kamenashi saw him after it was supposed to be all over, he ended up hiring Jin twice in one night. Not here.

His skin is still prickling from the air, the absence of touch. He gives the scattered mess of his clothes over by the wall a quick glance as he scoots forward, pushing his legs off the bed, but no point tempting fate. There are no sounds, the bathrooms are designed that way, but he doesn't have to wait long.

Kamenashi comes out still naked, still shimmering with sweat and still an _asshole_ because the look he gives Jin, like he's almost surprised to find him there, turns into that exasperated sneer again and guess what, Jin didn't askfor this fucking assignment, didn't ask for Kamenashi to buy him drinks and jerk him around and pin him against a fucking _wall_ for a blow job, with his fucking hands _everywhere._

He gets up, doesn't ask for permission this time, and walks past Kamenashi's wary scowl because he needs to piss and he's allowed and he's going to wash the guy's hands off his face.

So he does, and it clears his head, and when he comes back out Kamenashi is by the bar, has wrapped himself up in a bathrobe and is holding a glass of whisky, one arm crossed over his chest, and from the body language and the tense way he's watching Jin, someone who _cares_ might be tempted to suggest he ought to try yoga instead of whores, it might relax him more.

Jin doesn't go near him, gets closer to the bed again. "Is there anything else you'd like?" he asks politely, just like they teach you in whore-school, even if he skips the extra credit for enthusiasm.

Kamenashi takes a swallow of his drink and when his eyes meet Jin's again, they are cold and he lifts one eyebrow mockingly. "What, like… _conversation_?"

Jin's not going there. His aim is to get out of here, not trade insults with the client, and he doesn't have to deal with this, he can wait. Just wait.

"I think I'll pass," Kamenashi says, and he seems pleased, in that generally displeased way of his, seems to think he's won.

But Jin's got no problem letting him think that, is only careful not to show how much it's not a problem, just bows a little and goes to pick up his clothes.

His hands are steady this time, but he doesn't rush anyway. Steps into underpants that are still damp at the trousers that'll have to be cleaned because Kamenashi didn't care how much of a mess he made. The stains on the shirt have dried, fabric gone stiff. He does the tie, too, and when he lifts his head to bring the end up through the loop, Kamenashi puts his glass down on the bar, and he catches another one of those stares like Jin's mere presence is a grave offense and maybe the bastard could just leave him _alone_ , very easy solution there. He finishes the tie coolly; professionally.

And then he ignores Kamenashi's glower, makes the appropriate bow and says, finally, "Enjoy our stay."

He keeps expecting… something, whatever… when he opens the door and walks through and closes it carefully behind him.

Nothing. They're finished.

He doesn't wait for the elevator, takes the fire stairs down.

Finished.

Maybe Ootomo should have his ears examined.

But whatever, tonight is over, and he walks quickly through the stylish lobby and past the official doors to Konoe-san's and Ootomo's offices, enters the code to the door that no client ever passes and is back, is better, in the plain surroundings behind the scenes.

Maybe not Ootomo's fault at all. Ootomo is a lot of things, but he's not the crazy one.

Satoshi and Tadayoshi are packing their stuff when he slips into the break room, and Shota looks up from buttoning his shirt, nods at him, damp hair falling into his eyes. Jun is leaning against the back of one of the armchairs, dressed down in designer jeans and a black t-shirt, leather jacket slung casually over a shoulder, his bag at his feet. Jin checks the digital clock on the microwave. Eleven thirty. Kamenashi kept him just long enough with the joyful fucking experiments to make the subway a gamble. Figures.

"You done for the night?" Tadayoshi asks him, and nods at Shota, who's finished dressing. "We're heading for the station, can't wait long but if you hurry…"

It's nice of them to offer; it's a bit of a walk, and not so well-lit once you're off the main street. But Jin shakes his head. "No, it's fine. I'd probably miss the last connection in Shinagawa." He's okay with staying.

"I hear you've been busy today," Jun says, and it takes Jin a moment to realize Jun's talking to _him_ and then he gets it, people are _talking_ about— "You sure have this one all fired up for you." Jun's look is benignly appraising and Jin is just frozen. "And a hot, young one for a change, too."

It's finished. It's finished, Jin doesn't want to talk about it. People congratulating him on… No. Finished. He shrugs.

"Jaejoong told me about that," Tadayoshi says. "The second time, I mean. He must be really into you, he doesn't even do second rounds when he's paid for the night."

"Aww, limp issues already?" Jun asks. "At his age?"

Jin turns away. Don't these guys have trains to catch?

"Nah, he's good. Just sweet. One of the 'real date' types."

Jin can feel their eyes on him, waiting for his verdict on Mr Romance. But for once he finds something to say. "Hey, which poor bastard got stuck with Nakamaru?" Not that Jin wouldn't have taken Nakamaru, tonight – he'd have taken anyone, smelly Suzuki or that jerk Nakai or even fucking Eda, if he'd been around.

"That would be me," Shota says. "He's not so bad, he just needs a bit of steering. I think he admitted he's into uniforms…"

Jun giggles. Jin likes him when he does that, silliness cracking through the gloss. "Ooh, General Nakamura-chan, will you show me your pistol…"

Tadayoshi slings his bag over his shoulder and grins at Shota. "Yeah, you're the man for costumes, aren't you?"

"Shut _up_ ," Shota says with a pissy edge, grabbing his own stuff as well. He runs a hand through his hair, then chooses damp over missing the train. "I was on my own time for that." He raises his hand in goodbye, and Tadayoshi smiles at them. "And I didn't fuck _anybody_ ," Jin hears him as they head out the door. "Paranoid bastard."

"That, he is," Jun comments even though Shota can't hear him anymore, and he stands up, communicating to Satoshi that he may be willing to share a cab out to Shibuya but not to wait out the scrupulous adjustment of shoelaces for a perfect fit.

Jin doesn't need to take a cab. He could, but he doesn't like to blow money like that when he's still getting used to _having_ money. He's just started seriously saving.

Besides, he likes it here. It's warm and clean and it beats being out in the cold and dark because you missed your train, too.

Good for Shota he's no longer in trouble.

Slowly, he shrugs out of his jacket, turns to wave to Jun and Satoshi as they go, and then it's quiet.

He takes off the rest of his clothes, drops them in the hamper; grabs the towel out of his locker and pads through to the shower room.

Soap is good, lots of soap. Soap smells fresh and not at all like Kamenashi's sweat or even his own, and the warm water eases that touch off his skin, the grip that just moves him whichever way, just because somebody can. He lets the hard spray drum against his shoulders and thinks Kamenashi's pathetic, he might as well have just jerked off for all that it even mattered Jin was there.

But now Jin's here, and he's clean and alone and he can rinse it all off, let it all drain away. The water keeps coming and he's getting drowsy from the warmth, and in here he can be, because nobody's coming to grab him and shove him around and push him down and… touch him.

And it's been worse, with Kamenashi. This was merely unpleasant and unexpected and if next time… if…

If he remembers the fancy conditioner his hair will be easier to manage tomorrow, so he takes the bottle, focuses to squeeze out the usual huge blob because it's not full and the plastic is tough and it takes some determination, then he concentrates on rubbing it in just so, starting from the roots like somebody told him here, and then he breathes deeply in the sandalwood-scented steam and keeps his head under the shower and his eyes closed and listens to nothing.

*~*~*

The lights in the hallway feel soft after the sparkling brightness of the bathroom. He's still alone on the floor. In the break room he wraps a towel around his head when he starts dripping on his clean dry t-shirt, and gets organized. Guys are likely to come in here for a while yet, to shower or just pack and go, or maybe stay. But if he's in the dorm with the lights out, nobody will try to talk to him or ask him nosy questions about his amazing time with his hot young client.

He rolls out the futon in the corner furthest from the door just like he's done the first time and every time since. Kills the lights, slips under the cover, clean smell of detergent and a solidity under him that's different from the guest room beds, feels more stable.

Kamenashi can't get at him here. Nobody can, that's the point, and it feels good.

He can hear the break room door open and close, but quietly; people who come in here are considerate, are on his side. He turns over in the dark, stretches out on his stomach and wiggles his toes while his feet are warming up.

They let him stay here even before he was ready to see clients, while they were still running background checks, sorting accommodation, training him how to flirt politely with dull ministers and jumpy celebrities, and he remembers those first three nights, when just lying here and being warm and knowing there were several locked doors between him and outside was… he'd almost forgotten what it felt like not to be afraid.

He can put up with creeps and assholes, for this. At least here, creeps and assholes is all they are, even Kamenashi, they don't mean you end up dead in the street with nobody even knowing what happened to you.

Subaru had had no one, too, before Jin, and even Jin… god.

He fishes his cheap new mp3 player out of the bag beside him, puts on soft music to fall asleep to, because he can, it's safe, and if he weren't suddenly feeling so heavy and exhausted he might have some hot chocolate from the common supply, because it's there. Instead, he just flips past a couple of fast songs to a quieter one, shifts down deeper under the warm covers and that's good, too.


	9. Chapter 9

### Wednesday 24 September

The agency is pleased with Kame. His mood improves once that filters through. He isn't hung over, not by a long shot, and he slept all right once he was at the apartment and in his own bed, out of that room that was… perfectly comfortable and stylish and of course he could have stayed, he doesn't need an escort – a hapless one at that – to enjoy the amenities and good service.

But he starts the day fresher when he sleeps at home.

Anyway, they're pleased with him. DVD sales of last year's series are high, interview requests about the movie are piling up already, and the gossip rags' speculation about his part in the anti-bullying campaign has been all they could wish for, linking his name in highly satisfactory ways with numerous senior figures and benefactors. Kame isn't that cynical, he believes in what he's doing, but he isn't stupid, either; he knows how it works. He knows why there was a signature-ready contract for a kids' single line cellphone commercial attached to a smug e-mail from Hamaguchi in his in-box this morning.

This is it, working.

He's printed the contract and signed it, and drops it off at the agency on his way to the studio. Only a short take for him today, a quick confrontation with 'the cop' and Morioka in a bleak interrogation room set with tired beige wallpaper and a realistic – Kame supposes – ink- and ash-stained table for Morioka to drum his fingers on like he doesn't care about anything at all, for Kame to slam his fist down next to that hand in the end, before their eyes meet, and a few seconds later—

"Cut!" Iijima yells, and then "Okay!", and that's that.

"Lunch?" Morioka says, wiping his hands on a cloth the assistant has brought him.

Kame shakes his head regretfully. "Meeting Sakurai Sho for the other thing. We've got a press conference on Saturday and a talk show a week later, we need to sort some stuff out. How about tomorrow?" They'll be here all day, but there's bound to be an hour when they can sneak off for a proper meal.

"Sure," Morioka says. "That place again, or something with more variety? I know a good Chinese restaurant not too far away."

"Chinese sounds good," Kame says. "At least you don't look like you're sizing the place up for a robbery any more."

"Yeah, you can take me places," Morioka says, grinning widely. "Aren't you glad!"

*~*~*

Officially, Kame and Sakurai Sho have never met; or maybe they'd claim some random encounter in some obscure bar they can't remember because somebody else dragged them there, sometime last year, _maybe_. Kame supposes that this is why they had each other's agents set up this meeting, to get their stories straight.

Because Sakurai plays the game as well as Kame. Better than Kame, one might say, without a gay gossip scandal in his past and with not just a wife but three children aged between nine and sixteen, a happy and successful family man for whom his visits to the club are a pleasant hobby.

Midori has mentioned children, and not just once. It's always felt like a step too far for Kame, too wrong, but Sakurai-san's example makes him wonder whether maybe he's not looking at this rationally enough. Maybe he should be more thorough. He probably ought to work on a long-term plan.

*~*~*

Kame gets to the place first, and settles in a corner with his sunglasses still on. A waitress brings a menu, but leaves him alone when he tells her he's waiting for somebody. He plays with the ashtray, then hides it behind the small white vase with a couple of chrysanthemums arranged in it.

When he looks up again, there's Sakurai, in the doorway. He's Kame's height, not tall, but he managed to pass forty while retaining the trim physique of a twenty-year-old. With a stylish haircut and the faintest hint of brown dye, he cuts a credible figure as Japan's most popular sports commentator.

Every assured, urbane movement he makes says that he knows it, enjoys it and, Kame guesses, considers it well worth the price. If Kame plays the game right, he'll be just as confident and smooth when he's forty, when devastating rumours are so long in the past _he_ will almost have forgotten, when he's got a couple of children in junior high.

He rises quickly when Sakurai approaches, shakes the thought off furtively, bows politely.

"Pleased to meet you, Kamenashi-san," Sakurai says, and the amused smile in his eyes is only there to see for those who know.

Kame returns the greeting and adds, "Let's work well together," and then they sit down to be jolly colleagues.

"When your agent called, mine was just looking out your contact details," Sakurai says cheerfully. "We seem to be on the same wavelength."

Yes, Kame thinks, they are, because they have to be, and maybe he should feel inspired by Sakurai who seems quite, quite happy with it.

"It makes sense, I guess," he concedes.

Sakurai orders a modest glass of red wine but Kame prefers to go with water. He picks a salad with grilled chicken breast and Sakurai, after a little wavering, decides on a katsudon set. The drinks come almost instantly, and once the waitress has retired, Sakurai raises his glass in a leisurely toast and they have a sip each.

"So what shall we tell them?" Sakurai gets right to the heart of the matter.

Kame's been trying to remember for days if he ever mentioned Sakurai to Midori, but he doesn't think so, doesn't think he'd have had any reason to.

"I could be fine claiming this here is our first meeting ever," he says. "I don't have to, but there's no reason why I couldn't." Sakurai will know what he means.

It's clear that he does from the way he's swirling his wine about thoughtfully.

"I don't think I've mentioned you to anybody," he says in the end. "No reason to, as such, and I tend to keep quiet about Johnny's members anyway. Easier than keeping stories straight."

Kame knows what he means, too. The only Johnny's member he will mention outside is Koki, and that's because they knew each other before.

And he and Sakurai don't really move in the same showbiz circles. It would be difficult to come up with a reason why they should have met that wouldn't involve third parties in the lie.

Their food arrives; the salad is bigger than Kame expected, colourful with various leaves and tomatoes and raw yellow capsicums. Sakurai's katsudon set takes a moment to arrange, and they wait in silence until they have their privacy back.

"So we met today," Kame sums up finally, "had a long chat and attribute everything we know about each other to that."

Sakurai nods. "So. That's that settled."

And sure, Kame will find it easy to act like he doesn't know that Sakurai usually arrives around nine, that he buys pink champagne, and that he likes to go upstairs with Jun.

He's glad their tastes don't seem to coincide because he can find that a little freaky. It's part of the reason why he stays away from the men Tanaka favours. That, and the fact that he has Tatsuya who…

…gave him that odd look last night.

But that was just a moment. It probably wasn't important. And even if Tatsuya wonders, Kame can explain… well, not explain, because there's no reason to, but Tatsuya will understand quite easily that something like that isn't Kame's style, he _knows_ it isn't.

He can probably get them to laugh it off.

And it's not like anybody else— well, there was Nishikido, but it wasn't a _problem_ , and Nishikido seemed to be perfectly happy in his company after that first— well, that. That was a little impulsive, Kame doesn't even know what he was trying to do there. But the point is… the point _is_ , it wasn't a problem, either.

"I guess they haven't told you any more about what we're supposed to do at the talk show than they've told me," Sakurai is saying.

Kame shakes his head. "No idea." And Hamaguchi is good at keeping him informed. "All I know is, it's about the stars meeting the unsung heroes of the campaign. There are lot of people involved on the ground. We're just there because if we weren't, nobody would pay attention."

And he can live with that, during his more realistic moments, is glad he can at least help get them that attention. That's when the fame is worth… something, something beyond the buzz and the money and having his picture on every magazine. Something where even looking at Sakurai he can still tell himself that it's worthwhile in the long run and he can make those long-term plans and live with them.

And there's always Johnny's. Still a lifesaver even if he didn't want to accept it at first, three and a half years ago when Tanaka first called him about it, with the magazines still screaming Souji's cruel and spiteful proclamations into the world in bright red headlines; told him that he didn't give a fuck if Kame liked boys or girls or goats but there were ways to be discreet and if Kame wanted, he could help him out.

Kame needed a year to take him up on it. When the worst fear wore off but being straight just wouldn't happen and he caught himself looking at strangers, daydreaming things nothing short of suicidal.

"So I guess they brought you into this because of the movie?" Sakurai says, pulling him back into the present. "I saw some of the promotional material. Interesting role?"

Kame moves his shoulders vaguely as he picks pieces of tomato out of the salad and deposits them in the ashtray. "Not so much from an acting point of view but… if more teachers were like that, perhaps some young people would have a better chance," he says. "But my opponent has a point, too."

"That would be the young pupil in that photo—"

"No," Kame says, putting down the fork he'd been lifting to his mouth. "The other teacher. Played by Toyoda Fumie, you may have heard of her."

"Oh, the pregnant lady."

That wasn't what Kame had meant, but fair enough. "Yes. She's a good actress." He explains about the character she plays while they finish their lunch, tries not to mention Morioka again and isn't sure why.

Instead, he ends up telling Sakurai a little more than he might normally have about the on-set bullying which had led to his press statement. It's only natural, connected to the campaign they are currently involved in, and besides, he knows that it won't go further – if he can't trust the discretion of Johnny's members, there's nobody left to trust. Johnny's is about more than easy sex, it's about being together in a place where nobody judges you, and it's maybe the only part of Kame's life where he can be himself and still be confident and liked and… except…

Except now, for the first time, because he ran into an escort whose lack of finesse and proper behaviour rubs all over every transaction that involves him. But it's all right, it's not a problem because anybody who's had him before will know that too; that's why Yamatani was so understanding, and Nishikido, too, it would appear, and Jin is sure going through them, it takes a firm hand to keep him in his place and who wants to pay for that sort of hassle?

Even Yamatani wasn't all that keen, Kame called that right, even if Jin seems to think—

 _I don't comment on valued clients._

Kame wonders how true that is. Sure, there'll be club rules, and not even that guy would be so clueless because if one client hears you badmouth another, he'll wonder what you're going to say about _him_.

But Kame wonders what the escorts talk about among themselves. Wonders what sort of word can get around just because one inept escort is incapable of having a normal date with him.

Sakurai puts his soup bowl down, a soft sound that clicks loudly in Kame's ears.

Sakurai wasn't even there. So Kame smiles, asks something harmless about how he got involved with the campaign himself and nods his way through the answer while he wonders about what this man has in his head about him, if he knows that Kame likes his company refined and mature, the sorts of drinks he has, that he's quiet in the lounge. Nothing he might have observed about Kame over the years is anything bad, anything to be ashamed of; Kame has made his peace with necessity and he's safer at Johnny's than anywhere else.

It's only the sudden awareness of an outside perspective that… Sakurai's probably not even thinking about Johnny's, may be thinking about his kid's school trip. And anyway, it doesn't matter, they're in the same boat and nobody's in a place to judge anybody.

It will matter even less once he's past that business with Jin, and he'll put that behind him before his next visit, soon. Once everything is normal with Tatsuya, once everything is like it's been for more than two years, stable and workable and a good foundation to keep the rest of his life in order. He looks at Sakurai, who has it all worked out so well, and then looks down and picks up his fork. They'll work well together. Everything will work out as they planned.


	10. Chapter 10

### Saturday 27 September

Jin steps aside to let the lady with the stroller through the door. She smiles at him briefly before the doors close again, and Jin waits for the train to jolt into movement.

The boy two rows over is throwing him a glance, a worn study book flopping unloved and unheeded on his knees, white earphones making his stare bold, as if Jin won't notice. Jin looks innocent and resists the urge to rumple his fancy jacket into something closer to normalcy. He washed the lip-gloss off after Ohishi finished, has his tie rolled up in his pocket and his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, and he knows for a fact that their outfits are carefully chosen so they don't scream _whore_ in bright flashing letters.

The boy's eyes drop to his polished, expensive shoes, and Jin thinks it probably means nothing, just a kid's blank boredom at being tortured in cram school.

Jin didn't know anything about fashion when he was that age, wouldn't have known a hundred thousand yen suit on a call boy despite what his father said about Jin's tastes, and the only piece of clothing he ever really admired was Naoki's leather jacket. That had always struck him as pretty manly.

He drums his fingers around the bar he's holding on to, turns towards the window, watches uniform rows of houses snap past.

The appointment went okay, even though it wasn't their usual time or day. Everything else was routine enough that he didn't have to think about things he shouldn't think about when he's with other clients, and he caught his train twenty minutes before he'd thought he would.

Still it's already five when Jin arrives at the club, late for a Saturday, and when he dumps the bag with the condoms and lube and spare underwear in his locker, the break room is emptying out. Danny greets him from where he's trying to get his curls in order, and Jun gives him a look that passes for hello on his way out the door. They can tell from his get-up that he's just come from a client and will want a little break.

Jin checks the time on his cell again. He often feels like he doesn't know much about the lives of regular people but unless things have changed, now should be good. So he doesn't hit the showers right away, just grabs a cup of coffee and his cigarettes and takes the stairs down to the little backyard where they go to smoke between the dumpsters.

Mikami is waiting out the start of his front-desk shift, a half-smoked cigarette looking tiny and fussy between his large fingers. His white shirt stretches across his broad chest when he inhales.

He nods at Jin, tapping off ash in the gap between the wall and the garbage container. "You on a break?"

Jin shivers. He should have put on something extra. "Yeah."

"Hm," Mikami says, and takes a slow drag. He pulls out his pack to offer Jin a smoke.

Jin shakes his head, leaves it for now. He thinks he'll want one after. "Just came out to make a phone call," he explains, but puts his hands in his pockets, it's not like he wants to chase the guy away.

They're silent for a moment. There's something gentle about Mikami's bulk even when Jin feels dwarfed standing next to him. Jin always gets the feeling he doesn't want to think too hard about what they're up to up in the rooms, or down in the lounge, but his monosyllabic quiet isn't unfriendly and he's the one who's got their backs most of the nights, who'd be there if anyone had to push that panic button. He's also told Jin that Tokyo Verdy don't entirely suck.

Then Mikami nods again, takes another deep drag and stubs out what's left of his cigarette. "Good luck," he says randomly, and Jin nods, just as randomly.

He gives it three more minutes, considers a cigarette anyway, considers timing, what they'll be doing when. He thumbs through the menu until his phone is set to withhold his number.

Then he dials.

"Hello," Hisato answers cheerfully, voices loud in the background, and Jin's throat dries up.

"Hi," he says. "It's Jin."

He waits. The noise continues, but he can't make out anyone, doesn't want to. This is just a thing he has to do. "Happy birthday."

"Hi," Hisato says finally.

Jin breathes in slowly. "Did you get…"

"Yeah. Thanks."

The DoCoMo phone is the first expensive thing he's bought since he started at Johnny's, after his guitar. He hopes they don't give Hisato grief over it, getting a present from him. He didn't have anything to send last year.

"I hope you like it. I asked around. I thought maybe you could use it for work." Or he can sell it if he doesn't want to use it, Jin doesn't care, it's just a phone.

"It's fancy," Hisato says, after a moment. "So you, you have a good job now?"

"Yeah," Jin says, "I'm okay." And sure, he's got a place and an income and he'll never know if it would even matter to them how he makes his money or if it's all the same level of disgusting.

"How are things with you?" he asks. "How's work?"

"It's work," Hisato says. Jin hears the sulk; sees it, clearly, that way of looking at an unwelcome task that they both inherited from their father. Only Taro-chan isn't like that; nobody knows where he got the cheerfulness from.

"Noda-san wants to take me on full time," Hisato says eventually. "When the apprenticeship is over."

Hisato is training to become a plumber; a good, reliable job, and Jin was glad for him when he heard, last year, before that phone call turned to yelling and familiar accusations.

"That's great," he says.

"You still…" Hisato lowers his voice; still the shitty old cord phone, Jin thinks, sitting right under everyone's nose in the living room, and for some reason thinking of the ugly brown table and the cheesy piece of tablecloth makes his chest go tight. "You still with that guy?"

He doesn't want to argue, he just called for his brother's birthday. And maybe he should give Hisato points for even asking, the first time after more than two years, but he could at least… "Naoki," he says. He doesn't think Hisato has really forgotten. That anyone has forgotten. "No."

"But you're still…"

"I'm still _that_ , yeah," Jin says, and he's all sorts of other things too that would make Hisato sick to know, but he's done apologizing for _that_.

"Right," Hisato says, and he sounds cold now. "Good to know."

Jin notices that the noise level has dropped. He can picture his parents' disapproving faces as they figure out who their better, proper son is talking to. "Can you tell Taro-chan I said hi?" he asks before Hisato ends the call, and when there's silence he doesn't say _please_ because it won't matter and if nothing else, he can try not to be pathetic.

"Yeah, will do," Hisato says, and after a moment, "He's on the soccer team now. Midfielder. Not half bad. Has a girlfriend, too."

The team sucks, or did when Jin was in high school. The field sucks, too, muddy when it rains, with glass shards and other trash rotting under the bleachers. Not that Jin cared; not that Taro will, and he was fast and clever when they kicked a ball around in the street.

"That's cool," he mumbles. "Good for him."

"I'll tell dad you're okay," Hisato says at the end, very quietly, and Jin doesn't know what hurts worse, that his dad even cares, or that his mom doesn't.

"Okay."

"Bye then."

"Bye."

Jin deletes the number from the list of calls because he doesn't want the possibility of anyone tracing anything, does it right away because it will be harder later. Then he fumbles out a cigarette and lights it, mostly calm, and doesn't care about the suit when he leans against the front of the dumpster because he's got a spare to put on for the lounge.

He thinks for a moment that Taro will turn thirteen in January, and tries to remember what shoe size he had at that age, and then he stops because he can't afford to get sentimental when he has to go to work, smile at people in the lounge and keep an eye out for the right kind of client and the wrong kind of client.

He takes a deep drag and closes his eyes, gives himself another moment.

*~*~*

Showered, changed and styled, he takes the elevator down, and then he stops in the cover of the folding screen and waits for the sudden shot of adrenaline to fade.

It's going on six, there's a decent crowd already and he isn't likely to even be noticed before he's had a chance to see for himself. Unless somebody's waiting for him he'll be fine; and nobody _is_ waiting for him except possibly Yamatani, who will be wondering what's taking Jin so long, so he pulls up his shoulders and steals in.

He finds Yamatani immediately, sitting where he always does, cultivated and reassuringly familiar even at the distance. He's in the company of another guest; that history professor, Jin recalls. A friendly guy who talks almost as much as Nakamaru but is his complete opposite in fashion, with his bright flashy clothes. Also takes some convincing to move upstairs, or so Jin's been told by colleagues who are more his type than Jin is.

He scans the room while he walks, and it's not like he _expects_ Kamenashi to show up so shortly after the last time, but you never know, it's better to be sure.

Yamatani sees him and smiles. "Jin, here you are! Have you met Koyama-sensei?"

Jin bows, first to Yamatani and then to Koyama, who is nodding pleasantly.

"We had a brief chat once," Koyama says. "Hi, Jin, I hope you're well."

"We're just talking about the eighteenth dynasty in Egypt," Yamatani says, briefly tapping a shiny art postcard on the table. "Koyama-sensei wants to convince me that Echnaton became a monotheistic monk and let the land go to ruin." The wrinkles around Yamatani's eyes deepen when he smiles. Jin tries to remember if he's ever heard of Echnaton before. The stone bust on the picture reminds him a little of the environment minister. "You're very welcome to join us," Yamatani says, "but if you don't want to get all dusty with us old men, we can save you a seat." Koyama, probably at least ten years younger than Yamatani, laughs. "I should be here a while," Yamatani adds, and that's him all over, considerate enough he doesn't want Jin _bored_.

Jin nods, smiles back. "So I'll see you later?" he asks, and it still doesn't come easy, asking the other question just by tone, but he manages, because he'd rather not leave that open.

"Certainly," Yamatani says, and winks easily. "If you're free."

Jin gives him another smile, looks sure. "I'm not anymore, now," he says, and feels himself blush a little but that's okay, with Yamatani.

He feels better with this sorted. He wouldn't even mind sitting there listening to them talk about their Nakamaru-look-alike but he doesn't want to appear awkward. He should scout what else is going around tonight, anyway; he'll be here a while even after Yamatani, and things have been slow the last few days.

He drifts around. Starts once when there's a lone newcomer, short and bundled up like a famous star, and then it's some tiny businessman who doesn't like the cold, and Jin feels like a fool. It was just getting easier, he was just starting to feel less awkward and clumsy, doing better at talking to clients. Fucking Kamenashi.

And it's always been easier with a drink in hand, so he gets himself a glass of water, stops with his back to the bar. He recognizes a few faces. Tsukada is in and busy entertaining Jun and Satoshi, and Jin looks away when Satoshi gets his cheeks pinched. A seating group over is a grey-haired banker Jin's had twice for relaxation, and he might be interested again if he stays long enough, but Danny seems to be making good progress with him and it's best not to interfere.

Kimura-senpai is having dinner with a thin, austere-looking old guy who keeps making serious faces at what Jin expects is well-informed commentary on the last election or Chinese Opera or something, and Jin is glad just from looking that his regulars aren't like that. Close by, there are three guests eating together, no escorts, and Jin doesn't recognize them as anyone's regulars; they might be a possibility for later.

"Hi!"

Just off to his side, Jin didn't see the guy coming and he's instantly sweating, and _fuck_.

Late forties, early fifties, receding hair and a little pouch. Jin's never seen him before. His conservative suit looks like its owner doesn't always bother with coat hangers. He has a wide, noisy-looking smile. Jin doesn't know him and he has no reason to be nervous, only the guy is standing a little too close, and friendly smiles only mean so much.

"I'm not sure how this works," the man says, and Jin doesn't quite know what to make of the vaguely sweaty confusion and he doesn't like that. But he does know how it works, allegedly, and he's seeing Yamatani in a short while, anyway.

"Good evening," he says with a bow. "I'm Jin."

"Oh!" The guy bounces once on his heels. "My apologies. My name is Yokoyama."

"Have you been with us long?" Jin asks politely.

"No, I was just introduced two weeks ago. Now my friend has gone, uh, off, with a colleague of yours and the young man I was talking to, well, I think I scared him off, maybe."

That… right. Jin wonders who it was, and reminds himself that not everyone who's pushy is necessarily an asshole.

"And then I saw you standing there…" Yokoyama grins a quirky little grin.

"I already have an engagement," Jin says just to be clear, and because he doesn't want the guy to waste social skills that don't come easy on a come-on that won't go anywhere.

Yokoyama's smile just turns fuller. "That's not a problem!"

Jin blinks.

"We could just have a drink together and talk a bit," Yokoyama says. "Practice, like."

Practice. The guy wants Jin for conversational warm-up. That's a new one. But a drink's a drink, and it's good policy to get to know the new guys.

They stay at the bar because Yokoyama doesn't invite him anywhere else and because that suits Jin fine, it's just an interlude before Yamatani.

But once Jin gets with the program, he realizes Yokoyama is quite nice. A little nutty, maybe, but when you're making your money playing the stock market, you probably need a good dose of that, and at least he wears his crazy on the outside for everyone to see, not like some people who play nice and polite until the door closes and you're alone with them. They both drink beer, and Jin doesn't see much practicing going on, just some relaxed conversation with a guy who's not fazed when Jin can't hold his own on dividends and equities and composite real price indexes, just hops on to the next topic, and Jin stops minding Yokoyama's problems with personal space, because it's like the guy himself doesn't even notice.

"So, if you didn't have an engagement already," Yokoyama says once they're getting to the bottoms of their beers, and for the first time there's a hint of flirtation, a moment of deliberation in his long gaze.

Jin lets him look, leans into the bar while he plays with his beer. "If I didn't have an engagement," he says, and tries a smile, a slow one he sees hit home with Yokoyama, and that's okay, "you could invite me to one of the tables," and he doesn't pause much, ignores the flush, "or you could just ask me upstairs."

"And you'd go?"

Jin laughs. He doesn't mean to, wouldn't laugh at a client deliberately, but Yokoyama seems so surprised he can't help it.

"Yes, I would," he says, still a little warm in the face.

Yokoyama looks pleased, somehow, and tries to be subtle about the way he's checking Jin out again, but Jin doesn't mind that, it's not sleazy or creepy.

"Maybe some other time," Yokoyama says, lightly but nicely, and Jin nods.

"That would be fine," he says, and nothing more because they're not making a commitment here, and then Yokoyama is off to scout the more available escorts, but, Jin thinks, it probably _would_ be fine.

He starts moving again, drifts towards the black seating groups in front of the big screen. The one in the far corner is fully occupied, and there he sees Yuuya along with Shota and Takahisa, gathered around two older clients and managing to distract them from whatever is on. Jin has a quick look; Albi are playing JEF and he doesn't sit down, doesn't even throw more than a passing glance at the score because he's been here for over two months and he's not quite that stupid anymore.

He's considering taking his chances with the stone Nakamaru when Yuuya sees him, and brightens up. Jin raises his hand for a quick hello, because they missed each other in the break room, but Yuuya is already disentangling himself, throwing Jin another glance that makes Jin stay where he is.

Jin hopes nothing is wrong, but Yuuya looks cheerful enough coming towards him.

"Hey, Yuuya," Jin says. "Everything okay?"

"Sure!" Yuuya says. "Everything's fine. Are you busy, Jin-senpai?"

"You really don't have to call me that," Jin says for like the third time, but then adds, "No, not busy, I just got here. What's up?"

"I need your advice," Yuuya admits. "And I didn't catch you earlier."

"I got in late," Jin says, thinking of the phone call and his brother, and Yuuya coming to him for advice, and there's something there that makes Jin put aside his unease and make himself stop checking the door every thirty seconds. "Do you want to sit down?" he asks.

They take one of the empty black sofas. Yuuya pulls one leg up unselfconsciously, turns toward Jin, and Jin tries to look like someone qualified to give advice.

"What's up?" he asks again.

"I had my first performance review with Ootomo-san today," he says.

Jin does not wince or sigh. "Did it go okay?" he asks carefully.

Yuuya nods brightly. "Oh, yes! He said I'm doing really well." Not that that's surprising. Anyone who's watched Yuuya around here would know that.

Jin thinks. 'Congratulations' sounds a bit wrong. "That's good," he says, feeling lame.

"Yes." Yuuya is chewing on his lip, staring into space. "But he asked me, now that I'm a bit more used to things around here and have some more experience, if I would consider doing further services."

Jin winces after all, but he hopes it was… yeah, Yuuya doesn't seem to have noticed.

And it isn't unexpected. Yuuya is getting so popular with clients, there'll be no end to the money he can make if he goes into kink. Jin nods slowly, tries not to show just what he thinks of Ootomo's suggestion. "I see."

"He thinks it would be good for me to add that to my portfolio," Yuuya says.

Yeah, Jin can just about hear that.

Yuu-chan shows a hesitant little frown. "Do you do any sort of—"

"No." Jin shakes his head fast, then regrets it when he sees Yuu-chan's face.

"I mean, no, I, it's not my thing," he tries again, cooler this time, watching for Yuuya's surprise to fade. He doesn't need anything worse on top of the ordinary. "But hey…"

And then he thinks, fuck, he should do better than that, because he can see questions in Yuuya's eyes that he's not asking now, and Yuuya wanted advice, not have sob stories dumped on him. "I mean, you can choose," he says, recalling what Ootomo told him when he was upstairs to talk about his 'portfolio'. "Doing one thing extra doesn't mean you have to do everything." He just wants him to be careful, not to feel judged.

Yuuya nods slowly, as if Jin hit on the right question. Good. "Yes, because… I was thinking… there's some stuff that I wouldn't mind so much, you know?"

Jin nods and says nothing, lets Yuuya finish his thoughts.

"I really don't want to work in a dungeon, but…" He hesitates.

Jin nods for him to continue, regardless of how weird he feels, and Yuuya seems to take heart.

"For example, some fancy bondage that doesn't include, you know, _whips_ and things…" And he waits again, and Jin still doesn't let it show even if he feels sick and cold at the thought of anybody tying him to anything and it's not a better kind of helplessness if it's done with silk or leather or anything _fancy_ , because anytime some bastards might decide it's not enough to have him helpless and feel like adding to their fun, anytime. It's bad enough that Ootomo's got a generous idea of what constitutes normal.

He still says nothing because it's still his issues and this isn't that, this is the club and Yuu-chan can do… can let them do… whatever he likes to get paid for, and there'll be permission and negotiation and nothing will happen that Yuu-chan doesn't want.

"Or, like, if it gets a client off if I'm wearing a skirt, I wouldn't _care_ ," Yuu-chan is saying, and Jin blinks back to the present. And this is a mild one, even Jin will admit that, and then he gets an image in his head and suddenly they're both smiling.

"You can think about it," Jin says. "I think you're doing really well here, too. I mean, Ootomo is happy with you and the clients are happy with you; I don't think you should feel like you have to, if you're not comfortable." It all sounds weird coming out of his mouth but Yuuya isn't laughing, or looking embarrassed, so maybe he's doing okay.

"Yeah," Yuuya nods. "I'll think about it."

"And if you want to talk about any more details before you speak to Ootomo, that's cool, really."

"Thank you," Yuuya smiles.

He doesn't sound hesitant at all now, and Jin feels glad for that.

Yuuya ducks his head a little. "Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Shota-kun mentioned that there's something about Ootomo and a rotation?"

Oh, that. Maybe Jin should have explained about that from the get-go. He hopes Yuu-chan didn't get blindsided. "Yeah," he says. "Perks, you know. It just keeps him sweet, and makes our lives easier."

Yuuya nods slowly, mostly unfazed. "So he calls us in for a freebie now and then?" The way he says it lets Jin suspect Yuuya isn't keen on the idea of freebies in general.

"Sometimes," he hedges. It's a bit hard to explain. They don't have a roster, as such, though Jin thinks if Junno wasn't out of Ootomo's league they might well get one. "But mostly it just shakes out that, you know, guy gets to have some fun once or twice a week and nobody has to do _all_ of it."

Yuuya nods again. "So everybody contributes?" he asks, looking ready, if not enthusiastic, to jump in and do his part.

"No, just some of us." It's pretty obvious that Ootomo doesn't have the likes of Tatsuya on tap, for one thing, and for another, it's not like it's official and everyone _has_ to; people who don't have a season pass to management's dog house can probably turn him down fairly easily. "Nobody's going to be mad if you don't want in on it, honestly."

Yuuya bites his lip. "You sure?"

"I'm really sure," Jin stresses.

"Because I'm not sure I want to do that," Yuuya admits, and there's something almost steely underneath his softness that surprises Jin. In a good way.

"Good," he says. "Really, it's not part of the job or anything. It's just this thing. Totally voluntary." After all, what's one more blow job? And it would be similar for Yuuya, but Jin still feels he shouldn't feel obliged or pressured. Feels that really strongly.

"Thank you for your help," Yuuya says sincerely.

"You're welcome," Jin says, and it feels good, like having a younger brother who actually likes him and doesn't consider him a waste of oxygen. "Any time."

There's a pause as they both get ready, into the right frame of mind to go back to work. "Do you want to come sit with us?" Yuuya asks shyly. "I saw you wandering around. But there's lots of new people that came, I kept you busy a while." He smiles with a touch of an apology that Jin waves aside.

"Really, it's okay," he says. "And I'm with Yamatani now, I think they might be done with the mummies."

"Mummies?" Yuuya says with wide eyes.

"Some ancient stuff," Jin concedes, throwing a look in their general direction. Someone else has joined them, someone dark-haired, could be Jun. Yamatani looks up after a moment and meets his eyes with a friendly invitation. It's time to go.

*~*~*

Yamatani usually takes the first shower. Jin showers, too, because they prefer to forget that he's had a client already and showered little more than an hour ago. Besides it's nice like this, both of them warm and relaxed, wrapped up in the club's thick white bathrobes.

When he sits down on the couch, Yamatani has brought out a small plastic box wrapped up with wide pink ribbons and decorated with pink bows. "Some Nozawana pickles," Yamatani says. "I saw them on my way to the station, I thought you might like them." He nudges the box in Jin's direction. "Sorry about the ribbons, the shop lady simply would not let me leave without wrapping it up properly."

Jin grins as he bends forward, the movement pressing his leg against Yamatani's. Yamatani doesn't do this every time, always makes it seem spontaneous, and Jin thinks it's really nice, never embarrassing, never showy. He doesn't get much by way of presents but he's fine with that, it was bad enough when Eda showed up with that fucking scarf. He knows Tatsuya gets designer fragrances and gold watches from some of his regulars, and then he wonders if Kamenashi is the gift giving type when he's trying to be charming.

Damn. Stop, rewind. Because, hello, different. This is _nice_ , he's not here with some psycho creep.

It unwraps easily, and he offers the box right back to Yamatani, who gives in and takes a small piece.

Jin leans back with the pickle in his hand and takes a bite, guarding his bathrobe against drops with a cupped hand. It tastes very good, and then he laughs a bit when Yamatani just catches a leafy bit dropping off his, and stares at it sternly.

"It's fighting back?"

"It's not very impressed by my efforts," Yamatani says with a shake of his head before sticking the rest of the turnip slice in his mouth. Then he settles back into the couch, declining when Jin pushes the box towards him again. "After you liked the Nara ones, I thought this might appeal," he says.

"It's very nice," Jin says, and takes a second one. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"You went to Nozawa?"

"My son and daughter-in-law treated me to two days at the onsen. Well, we had some business to discuss, and she likes to ski."

"Skiing? In September?"

"Apparently," Yamatani says with a wink, "you can slide around on plastic mats if you don't want to get too rusty between seasons. I stayed in the baths, myself. It was very relaxing."

"Do you ski in winter?" Jin asks him, and doesn't have much trouble picturing it even though Yamatani is old, because he's so wiry and alert that it wouldn't be much of a stretch. But Yamatani just laughs, and, okay, there's the knees.

"I tried it once when I was younger, broke my ankle, and have stuck to bracing, age-appropriate winter walks since then."

Jin grins at him, and Yamatani's old face wrinkles up some more.

He doesn't ask Jin if he likes skiing. Jin appreciates that about him; that he's smart enough and considerate enough not to expect someone like Jin's ever had skiing lessons, with what Jin has told him about his parents.

"Do you like any sort of sports?" Yamatani asks after a moment, easing down a bit into the couch with his body turned towards Jin.

"Not really," Jin says, and feels bad about it. But he's learned. "I mean, I work out here, we have a pretty good gym."

"Ah, yes," Yamatani says, and it's not a leer by a long shot but there's something quiet and appreciative about his fleeting sidelong glance.

Jin doesn't blush but he feels the attention, warm and okay. Yamatani likes him, and Jin doesn't mind that Yamatani likes looking at him, likes touching him and still thinks he's worth some consideration. Doesn't treat him like… like the people who just go and take what they want.

"Is everything all right, Jin?"

Yamatani's voice has dropped into concern. Jin shakes himself out of it, whatever it was, because the point is that this _is_ Yamatani, and they're here at the club, where it's safe.

"Of course," Jin says, sliding a hand over, running fingers along the gap of the bathrobe, just barely touching skin before he settles his hand on Yamatani's leg.

Yamatani smiles, and asks him how he'd like to go to an onsen one day.

They talk some more, about Nozawa and hot springs and being naked outside, something Jin finds unappealing whether there's hot springs around or not; about the bad service Yamatani experienced on a previous trip, and that Jin thinks he'd make a crap waiter, and, at some point, about the bubbly bathtubs they have at the club, and somehow the image of the two of them taking a bath together amuses them both. But why not, Jin wonders. It could just be… comfortable.

Yamatani plays with Jin's fingers; he likes Jin's hands, which is a bit weird but never gets awkward or fake-romantic or anything, and there's a point Jin knows by now, a tilt of Yamatani's head and Jin shifts closer, tugs at where Yamatani's bathrobe opens.

He falls silent after that, fingers slipping underneath the soft cotton, and lower, taking his time. He uses his mouth, too, because Yamatani likes that, nothing lewd or overly wet but he sighs when Jin kisses his chest, strokes Jin's hair absent-mindedly and there's a shift to his hips, bony and skinny, pressing up against the touch of Jin's leg.

The knot is fiddlier than usual. "Sorry for the trouble," Yamatani says, and Jin bites his lip to keep from grinning, only he doesn't quite manage. He has to shift his weight to have both hands, and Yamatani watches, indulgent and amused, and he could even say something back, only he doesn't have to, either. Then he settles back, runs his hand lightly over the wrinkled folds of Yamatani's stomach, and wraps it around a beginning erection.

It will take a while. They don't rush each other. Once Yamatani moves his hand, he holds still for a moment for Yamatani to unfasten his bathrobe. He gets hard quickly; he didn't come earlier and it's easy with Yamatani, they know each other by now.

He lets his hand fall away when he gets closer; leans his head back, lets Yamatani see he's enjoying it, Yamatani likes to see and with him Jin doesn't mind. Yamatani doesn't slow down much, only draws it out a little before it's fast enough again, good enough for Jin to go with it and he doesn't hold his breath when he comes, never feels he has to, and Yamatani's gaze feels warm and kind while he gives Jin time to come down, gives him a nice little while to pull it back together.

Still touching him, lightly and fondly, and once Jin opens his eyes he sees the desire in Yamatani's, and smiles. He takes one more moment to sort himself out, before he slides down between Yamatani's skinny legs and takes him in his mouth. This is familiar, too, and Yamatani's fingers are light and fleeting on his forehead, careful in his hair.

"Ready?" he asks when he thinks they are, looking up into Yamatani's uneven breathing, and there's a nod, as usual, and a warm touch when Jin stands and pulls him up.

They do it over the back of the couch, because that's easiest on Yamatani's knees. It's not a position Jin likes much, wouldn't like at all with another client, but Yamatani didn't even bring it up, Jin had to ask around how it worked with Yamatani and comforts, and so this is what works for them, Yamatani's touch low on his back and then his hands on his hips, and always that pause, brief enough to not be awkward and Jin always breathes his okay into his easy slump along the leather, warming up fast under his skin.

After, when he lets go of the upholstery and straightens up, Yamatani still keeps his hands on him, pats him lightly before he goes to the bathroom. Jin gets them drinks, then gives the back of the couch a quick wipe where he's left sweaty handprints.

When Yamatani joins him on the couch again, they're not really touching, but now and then Yamatani reaches over and strokes his leg.

"Thank you, Jin," he says calmly.

Jin likes that he looks pleased. He says he's welcome, and sips at his beer. He throws a glance at the digital numbers on the DVD player; Yamatani has about an hour of his time left. Sometimes they cut that short; Yamatani likes to get home after fucking and doesn't like to keep Jin. Sometimes they chat a bit longer. Jin never feels in a great hurry to begin with.

He hands Yamatani his drink, smiles. He's fine staying the rest of the time, not eager for the lounge.


	11. Chapter 11

### Monday 29 September

The commercial is… Kame very much wants to put a better spin on it than _dumb_ , but it's proving difficult. The DoCoMo PR department sent the storyboard to the agency before the weekend, and Hamaguchi knows that he likes to prepare. At least he'll be prepared enough not to roll his eyes at them when he goes to the shoot.

He flips through the print-out again, wipes off the few breakfast crumbs that got stuck to the last page, and pushes it aside. Not that he would really roll his eyes. But he'd be tempted.

They also sent him some scripts, some stuff that's under discussion for after the teacher film. He's had time to study them over the weekend, with Midori gone in the evenings and him not having any other sort of plans, and that's as far as he's going to contemplate _that_ while sitting at his breakfast table.

At least the period drama looks kind of exciting. And he's heard it through the grapevine there's talk of turning the story of Daisuke Namba into a movie; Hamaguchi will roll her eyes if he says he'd like to play the would-be assassin of an Emperor, but that might be worth keeping track of. He's the right age, and the role must be fascinating.

He glances up at Midori, who is meditating her way through her second cup of coffee, forgoing their serious newspaper for some handbag-sized colourful thing she must have bought for the train ride home from Shizuoka. He woke up briefly when she came in, very late from her all-weekend work trip, knocking over the mug with her make-up utensils in her disorientation. 

They both slept in a little, in exchange for working the weekend. Kame sneaked out when he could feel Midori migrating towards the middle of the bed as she drifted out of unconsciousness. He doesn't plan to spend the entire morning in bed even if he isn't due on the set before noon.

Sipping at his own mug, its contents mostly cold by now, he watches her trying to operate the sweetener dispenser before she gives up with an endearing little frown. Midori, in a bit of a contrast to her girl next door aura and her general good cheer, does not rise and shine.

"Are you staying home today?" he asks, only really noticing now that she's still in pyjamas and her blue dressing-gown, and would at least be showered if she planned on going to work.

"No," she says with a sleepy blink. "I'm meeting Enoki-chan to go to a reading. In the afternoon. Though there might be drinks. Later, after the thing."

"Good," he smiles. "Have fun."

He's fine by himself at the house, really. He catches up on sleep, catches up on work.

Easier to dodge Tanaka, too. He doesn't feel good at the idea of going to the club again, and it's not like he can explain to Tanaka that he doesn't want to run into some incompetent escort unexpectedly and spend _another_ week with this weirdness hanging over him, these things that aren't like him at all and definitely not how it is all supposed to go.

Things he is definitely not thinking about while he's sitting across from his wife.

He flips through the pile of scripts again. That romance is insipid. Kame likes happy endings. He even likes happy scenes, as an actor, finds them more challenging than dying or portraying endless gloom with a twist of his mouth and a carefully deliberated stare. But the guy they want him to play is such an utter moron he really shouldn't get the girl, and Kame doesn't want to spend weeks or months getting into his skin, _really_ not.

Midori will probably agree when he shows her the scripts, though the way she turns her pages slowly and the distracted blinking of her eyes under a too-long fringe suggests he'd better give it a miss this morning. He smiles into his coffee mug. Maybe they can talk it over later tonight, if they're both awake enough when she returns.

Another upside to staying at home more often.

A proper arrangement will be better anyway, for when he sees Tatsuya again. He'll feel better if he doesn't have to improvise, and Tatsuya knows how he does things, anyway, and once things are normal and like they always were everything will be… normal. Everything will be fine. Maybe he _shouldn't_ dodge Tanaka, maybe he should just go in and be… normal.

Enough of that, he tells himself firmly, and looks up. And Midori has gone still.

When she looks at him, Kame can tell she's suddenly awake, though the smile she gives him is soft and untroubled; a little too pointedly soothing, in fact, to not set off Kame's alarm bells, even if she's not a mind reader and it really isn't about _that_.

"Don't get worried," Midori says, and there's a quirk to her mouth that tells him she knows exactly how reassuring an opening that is.

"That's…" He raises his eyebrows, and she laughs.

"Just, here," she says, pressing the spine of her magazine flat with one palm. "I think you look better with the floppy hats, by the way. More mysterious."

She's still smiling when he walks around the table, because she knows him, knows how much he doesn't like gossip and pictures, and she wouldn't smile if it were anything serious. He has to lean a bit over her flannel-covered shoulders and there it is, blurry grainy pictures of his face hidden behind wide sunglasses and his name in screaming sharp font, and there's… Morioka. Happily undisguised and exiting their favourite Chinese place, and Kame feels like a creepy cold gaze is crawling down his neck and the air tastes thick, hollow, devoid of oxygen.

Dinner. They were just having dinner.

"Just so it doesn't hit you," Midori says quietly, puts a hand over his on the table. He doesn't remember reaching down, touching that picture, invasive and wrong in all its harmlessness, and he can't pull away now, Midori would notice, Midori might wonder what the fuck is wrong with him, when it's just _dinner_.

It's not the same at all. Gods, no. _No_. Morioka is a colleague. Morioka is two steps behind him and smiling but that means nothing. They're colleagues and they like each other and what's wrong with that. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. It means absolutely nothing.

 _"_ Sparks on the set, _"_ it says, and something about unexpected new dynamics.

"I don't know how they even know it's you, _I_ wouldn't recognize you wrapped up like that and I'm your wife," Midori says, getting up slowly so she doesn't push her chair into him, and she kisses him lightly on the cheek.

"It took me a moment myself," he says, too long a pause to be natural, too desperate to be true.

"Don't worry about it," Midori says. "You know they follow you sometimes."

He knows. And she's right. "Yes, it's okay," he says, and tries to believe it. "Part of the game." He knows.

*~*~*

His phone buzzes just as he's getting in the car, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. Not the agency. Not any news outlets, either. It's just Tanaka, and he screens it, fingers clumsy on the small buttons. Later. He can't use this now.

And then he wonders if Tanaka has read the article and is calling about it and… and then he fastens his seatbelt, puts on his driving sunglasses, and calms the fuck _down_.

Because this is nothing but stupid gossip and people eating up the fanservice, running with it. They can't help that they have chemistry. It's generally considered a good thing among co-leads. The scenes with Morioka are the best thing about this movie, and there's a reason they set them up like that in the photo shoot.

Right. He takes his cell out of his jacket, puts it somewhere it won't give him a heart attack in the middle of the expressway, and pulls out of the drive.

 _Sparks on the set._

He read the article while Midori was in the shower. It's clever. Sly and clever and mean and they're not breathing a word about Souji, and Kame doesn't know why, they're so full of nudge-nudge, wink-wink that _that_ would be prime fodder. Kame is under no illusions that it's really been forgotten, no matter how good the agency's damage control was.

 _Good friends._ Right. They've known each other for a month and they work well together, and sometimes they share a meal. Maybe that already moves him into the good friend category, because how would Kame know? It's not like he has many friends.

His throat feels tight, and he should have brought something to drink. Should stop overthinking, just be… be normal, and that's when he changes lanes, takes the early exit. _Spending 'quality time' together._ At least they got that right. If that means he actually enjoyed talking to Morioka.

The silence in the car feels almost deafening. But he can't drive to radio when he needs to focus, needs to _think_.

They added that picture from the promo materials, to underline the 'chemistry', and Kame flashes back to that shoot, how tiredly grateful he'd been that it was easy with Morioka and that he even admired the intensity Morioka packed into his role, and for a horrifying moment Kame isn't sure whether he slipped and didn't notice, whether he looked at Morioka as anything other than a colleague and a nice guy.

But he didn't. Kame is careful. This sort of thing has no room on the outside, and he's had years of getting that right. He'd know if he found someone on the outside attractive beyond theoretical appreciation, and he'd know not to go to dinner with him and not to show pictures of the two of them to his wife.

He should think about the scripts. The romantic moron and that samurai and whether he feels up to that, the physical aspects of it and what promises to be a lot of freezing his ass off in out-of-the-way filming locations.

God, that… He hasn't thought of that birthday in years. Out in the middle of nowhere, cold and wet from sleet and not a soul who even remembered he was turning twenty-two, and he was still glad he wasn't home in their— in Kame's tight, constantly crowded apartment, and that's when he knew…

A warning sign by the road flashes '50' at him and he lifts his foot and unclenches his grip on the wheel, drops below the speed limit again.

He'd thought it couldn't get any worse, that he couldn't get any more miserable, crying his eyes out over dumping his boyfriend. Turned out he was wrong about that.

*~*~*

He leaves the car in the underground parking garage and makes sure he has the scripts and the storybook, everything he needs.

He thinks of changing his shirt because he feels oddly sweaty. But that would be a hoot, some intern or parking attendant or personal assistant seeing Kamenashi Kazuya topless in the agency's parking garage. He might get a reputation.

He's never liked the building much. He feels watched from the moment he steps through the first glass door, everyone from secretaries to the higher-ups that deal with people like him in see-through cubicles. He's been to where Midori works and it feels different, busier and warmer at once, even though it's basically the same style, lots of glass and stainless steel and expensive industrial carpet in muted greys and blues.

Nobody pays him much attention on his way to Hamaguchi's office, and that's good to know, good to feel normal when he smiles at Hamaguchi's secretary and she smiles back and there's nothing strange in her face or her eyes or the way she tells him to go on through yet another glass door.

He sees two grey outlines through the wide milky privacy stripe on this one, and recognizes Hamaguchi in a sharp expensive suit and her personal assistant in the same basic cut and colour, minus twenty or thirty thousand yen.

It's not unusual that Hamaguchi has time for him, even when he drops in unannounced; he's important enough, and why is he even nervous, he wouldn't _want_ to be kept waiting in the lobby wondering what's going on behind those doors. He smiles at her, too, and there's a polite round of greetings, and there's a look passing between the two women that he almost misses, and _shit_.

"I came about the scripts," he says and tries not to twirl the briefcase that contains them. The case is at odds with his jeans and polo shirt, and somehow that makes him uncomfortable. Maybe he should have changed after all, or thrown on a blazer at least.

"You didn't have to come in, Kamenashi-san," Hamaguchi says to him, sitting down in her yielding leather chair. It draws the eye, black and thick in an office that numbs you with its ivory-and-mint austerity. The flashiest piece of decor is a slim arrangement of white-painted twigs on Hamaguchi's desk, curling elegantly up and around each other in a long fragile glass vase. "It's not really that urgent."

She gestures towards the white guest chair in front of the desk, raising one corner of her mouth as if to apologize for the delay. The assistant stays, standing off the side.

"Those are some interesting possibilities," he says, and she nods pleasantly.

"I thought so. A lot will depend on which direction we want to take you in after the current project."

He didn't pick her. She just ended up in charge of him, when they signed him and sent him to his first serious assignment, a nervous fifteen-year-old who still wore cheap ill-fitting suits when he got called into the agency.

She was there, too, when his life nearly ended and the agency handled it, made it all go away. He suspects it was expensive, though he never asked how much. It hurt him too much to think about it, when he was still thinking about it.

It must be paid off by now in any case.

And apparently the assistant isn't going anywhere, and Hamaguchi is surprised enough to see him that she waits him out, and so he says, "I don't know if you've seen it," because he'd better bring it up on his own terms, with a chance to explain. Not that it doesn't take him two attempts to actually go on. "There's a paparazzi report about me and a co-star of mine going out to dinner. I don't know what they're getting at but I was surprised to see it."

They don't talk about it. Nobody ever, _ever_ talks about it. They just look at him. Like now, and Kame doesn't talk either, just waits and tells himself that the assessing stare is just regular Hamaguchi, she's got ten years on him and has managed bigger stars, and that's all it is, some level-headed assessment by someone who has a brain for business.

"I saw it yesterday," Hamaguchi says politely. Kame doesn't know if she reads gossip magazines but she's probably got someone for that, had that article in her press clippings… yesterday. She didn't even find it necessary to call him. And then she smiles, properly, and it feels _weird_. "This all seems to fit in with the promotional slant. Morioka-san and you enjoying a good relationship off set can only help the success of the picture." _Or can it?_ is what she doesn't add, doesn't need to because that's why Kame is sitting in her office, to answer that question before it can be asked.

"Of course," he says. "We're very good colleagues."

And she looks pleased enough. "I understand you wanting to be careful," she says, and what she means is that she approves of him being careful, Kame knows. He once got a crash course in all the little ways they talk to him without talking to him. "But as long as there's nothing to worry about…" She stops and thinks, and then she laughs. "Then there's really nothing to worry about!" She looks almost charming when she smiles, amused by her own unplanned joke.

Then she sends her assistant for coffee, and asks him what he makes of the romantic comedy he's been offered, mentioning that Kikuchi Rinko is being talked about as the female lead. She sounds excited; they've tried to pair Kame with Kikuchi-san before, only the plans fell through.

Kame stops holding on to the briefcase with both hands, crosses his legs at the ankles, wills his shoulders out of square rigidity. "It looks interesting," he says, and doesn't care that it's a lie. "It could be fun."

*~*~*

They're shooting outdoors. Production has recreated a street festival, and it almost feels like the real thing, excited extras milling around and a herd of nameless assistants ushering and shooing and trying to protect booths and cameras and hairstyles against the light showers that keep interrupting them. It makes shooting gappy and frantic, but when Kame has made it under the large white parasols he hears the boys laugh about something, again, and Matsura say something light and possibly funny about the plastic bag someone pulled over her hair after she stops from her sprint.

The parking lot has been cleared for the main cast and core staff, white folding chairs set up in little groups so that it almost looks like a street café. The boys are certainly treating it as such, sharing lunch snacks from the cart with their legs sprawled in front of them. Even Iijima seems to have found some kind of zen along the way and has stopped pacing the perimeter, is getting the street juggler they hired to teach him a three-ball toss.

Kame isn't hungry, and he isn't keen on all these breaks, and the low patter of rain feels foggy and damp around him, clouding his brain. It's hard to make out words over the distance, figure out proper context for the laughter and the nudges, and the light is weird and uncomfortable.

"Did you have a good weekend, Kamenashi-san?" Toyoda asks him where they have ended up together under the central umbrella, while he pours them both coffee at the cart. It's not a hard question, has nothing to do with the magazine, because Toyoda wouldn't, he's pretty sure of that.

"It was quiet," he says, and tries not to look at Morioka, who is just outside the boys' circle, being polite going through a scene with Matsura that they have coming up whenever the rain will allow it. "My wife was out of town for work." He hands Toyoda her decaf and manages a belated smile. If anyone is harmless, it's Toyoda, and it's nice that she's making conversation. "What about you?"

She tells him something about her husband and her mother, a friendly little story that passes the time and is better than the endless drum of the rain. At some point he remembers to take the frown off his face, smiles at her because she is a very nice woman.

Matsura is coming over to join them at the cart. Kame stirs his sugarless espresso, focussed and calm.

"Yeah, I feel so famous," Morioka is saying, and Kame knows without looking he's got a big, winning grin on his face. There's laughter, as if it doesn't matter when the press is after you, and there are scratches of chairs being dragged over rough concrete, the boys making room for Morioka, probably. Then the voices drop, not whispers exactly but Kame can take it for about fifteen seconds before he does check, and Kobi is teasing Morioka about _sparking_ and they all look like it's nothing.

He's known they know, felt it somehow… he probably should be glad he hasn't imagined the interested glances, the boys checking his mood, wondering if they're allowed to tease; Iijima's raised eyebrows when Morioka greeted Kame, a passing and innocent hello because Kame was busy talking to the hairdresser.

He catches something else, something about sparks and good angles. That's when Morioka meets his eyes, still grinning, and maybe the others look too, maybe they're watching eagerly for his reaction but he doesn't find out because he's calm and it's all harmless, and he just nods and taps off the tiny plastic spoon on the edge of his cup.

"Really?" he says to Toyoda, and she says yes, her mother really does breed mice, Matsura standing silently a meter away as if she's waiting to be invited into the conversation.

Eventually the rain stops again. The boys go out and so does Matsura, and Kame and Toyoda stay behind, switching to warm tea and preparing their lines in silence.

Kame knows his already; always does. Could play this scene in his sleep, it's not hard, a little wide-eyed romance and a Cinderella moment and he doesn't need to find her attractive, it doesn't work that way, though it might help if she'd started off a little more confidently, a little less like a lost younger sister.

 _Sparks on the set._

Morioka seems to find the whole thing amusing, as if he weren't an unestablished young actor with a hungry, impatient agency that can drop him at the first sign of displeasure. But he can't be unaware of the way these things work.

It gets quieter outside the parking lot. The extras have stopped being an excited crowd, the brawl must have ended at Matsura's intervention.

An assistant brings them the props for their next scene. Toyoda grins at him, looking good in her subtle smoky make-up and sporty smart-casual clothes. He does like her, more so when she's not nervous, likes her sincerity, and he hasn't caught a single assessing glance from her all day.

Kobi is the first one back, and Kame stands up. "Let's get this done before it starts raining again," he says, and Toyoda nods.

They leave it after the third take. It's a decent average. Iijima says nothing to Toyoda, which is as good as praise, and she seems confident enough about her performance for a change. Iijima has said nothing out of the ordinary to Kame, either. It went well. You can't expect magic every day. They're being competent enough together.

He ignores the extras on his way back, reassures Toyoda about a line delivery of hers, and they're still in the middle of comparing notes when she steers them back towards the food cart where Morioka is standing with a water bottle in hand, so Kame doesn't have much choice. He just goes.

"Cute," Morioka says, nodding at the large, fluffy yellow duck that Kame is carrying, and caps his bottle. "Can't say I ever managed to win one of those."

Kame sets the prop down into his folding chair because it's too yellow and fluffy to drop on the ground, and then he feels fussy and awkward about it. "Yes, I don't really know…"

Morioka smiles at them both, quite untroubled by paparazzi pictures and Toyoda's presence, and of course that's the way to go, it's _good_ that Toyoda is around and can see that there's nothing at all to see, and with her around there's nothing for anybody else to see right now, either.

Kame isn't thirsty but he takes some water anyway, unscrews it slowly. He doesn't need to look now; he's given it some thought over the day, watched cautiously when Morioka was filming, and he's sure. There's nothing there. He knew before this morning that Morioka is good-looking and funny and _nice_. He's a rising young actor and they don't usually pick them ugly and sullen.

"They take up a lot of space," Toyoda says with bit of blushing pragmatism. "My husband once won a purple dragon for me, when we were in high school, and I felt so bad, but I was sharing a room with two sisters and it was small enough as it was."

"Yes, exactly!" Morioka says, and looks at Kame.

"I don't think my wife would go for something like that either," he says, and he's so far from thinking about Midori and giant plush animals that he's almost confused when Morioka and Toyoda laugh.

"So, about that thing," Morioka says, with a final look at the duck. Kame keeps so still he doesn't even blink. "I guess the Lucky Garden is out of the question now? It must be annoying for you to have reporters everywhere."

"Yes, that…" Kame's eyes skip to Toyoda, find nothing but understanding for their restaurant problem in her face. "That's probably a good idea."

"Shame about the Szechuan squid," Morioka smiles. "That was good."

"Yeah."

"Should get myself some proper sunglasses now, though. I think I picked mine up at a conbini check-out, and that can't be good for my image."

"I'm sure Kobi-kun can help you out," Toyoda suggests, "he seems to know what's hip," while Kame stares blind between them and doesn't _understand_.

He's glad he saw Hamaguchi. Glad he has it settled and that he's not the only one who knows there's nothing going on, nothing there at all, and he's glad Morioka knows that too but he doesn't understand how it adds up to jokes about sunglasses.

Morioka isn't even married.

Eventually Kame's called for his solo scene. He's glad to get out from under the umbrellas and away from this weird conversation, and it should be easy, just him and the role and some despair as he curls his fingers into the mesh of the fence, _yelling_ for Morioka to stop, and he's not supposed to care that everyone is watching him, not supposed to feel anything but a driving mission.

Morioka's not in the take, nobody here but dozens of extras, and their eyes gravitate towards him as soon as the camera stops rolling. It's not unusual. He's the star of the picture and they look at him all the time.

Iijima makes him do it four times before the rain starts again. It's Kame's last take and Iijima gets an intent look on his face as the first drops fall dark on Kame's shirt, and then he asks politely if they could try it with the added wet effect, too. Of course they can. Kame yells some more, ignores the stares, ignores the extras. It's not going to do them much good with all the connecting scenes being shot dry and fake-sunny, but Iijima can't resist a pretty image and Kame feels oddly calmed by just letting the water hit him, cushion him from the stares.

He's just short of soaked when he makes it back to the wide white tent, and someone rushes towards him with hot tea and a towel. The stylist arrives armed with make-up and hairdryer, but Kame waves her off, he's done. The others will hang around for a while longer while someone tries to find out if it's going to let up early enough for them to finish the boys' scenes in good light. Kame takes a rest in a chair, ignoring the wet stickiness of his clothes.

"You should get changed, Kamenashi-san," Matsura tells him, but doesn't linger, and he just nods, feeling his shirt cool down fast against his skin.

"Wardrobe trailer's empty just now," Morioka says, behind him, and Kame doesn't start, of course he's here, they're colleagues. "If you want to change in peace."

"Thank you. I'll… yes, I'll do that." He blows into the cup absent-mindedly. Morioka is next to him now, but doesn't sit down.

"You gave him ideas, by the way," Morioka goes on, nodding at Iijima when Kame gives him a questioning look. "We're going to shoot the running away scene again, with rain."

"Sorry," Kame says, and Morioka laughs. He's really very charming. A nice guy. _Good friends_.

"Yeah, at least dessert should be on you then!"

"Ah." He tastes hairspray when he takes a sip. Wipes his hand over his face. "Yeah."

"We won't be long, I think. Half an hour, tops."

"Tonight's not good for me," Kame says. "I have to get home, I made plans with my wife." He tries a smile. "I'm sorry." And he is.

Morioka is only surprised for a second. Only a moment that something blinks across his friendly features, a passing thought. Plans can change.

"Hey, no problem," he says then, shrugs. Smiles. "Some other time."

"Yes, sure," Kame says. "Some other time."

*~*~*

Kame leaves while Morioka is sitting on a chair with his back to him, getting quick bruises reapplied to his face for the rain shoot. He says goodbye to Toyoda and to nobody else; they're all busy.

There's a large supermarket with a good food selection before he even gets to the expressway and he stops there to pick up something for dinner.

That's fine. These dinner dates weren't… a fixture or anything. Or dates. He puts on his sunglasses before he gets out of the car, then thinks of…

It's fine. Morioka's not going to need those sunglasses for a while yet, and Kame is going to be more careful.

He walks briskly through the rain, ignores the look the trolley attendant is giving his celebrity get-up because he's used to that, and slows for the automatic door to open and let him in, picks up a basket.

The magazine racks are always at the front of these shops, he doesn't know why, full of primary colours and red promises of other people's secrets. He ignores them, picks up a newspaper, a respectable one, instead. No reason why there should be anything— well, there was no reason for the other thing, either, but this isn't a gossip rag and— he puts it back on the shelf anyway because sometimes he just can't be bothered trying to pick through people's words to get at the truth, of anything.

He can read scripts about morons instead.

An arm stretches past him politely, reaches for the magazine he recognizes from their breakfast table and suddenly he feels trapped; he doesn't want to look at anyone and be _recognized_ but he also can't— It's a woman, practical, sporty dress, a little older than Midori with a stroller in arm's reach, and her eyes skip past him, taking no interest.

He shouldn't have stopped here, should have gone straight to the back where the chiller cabinets are, not get stuck between the headlines and the people who want to read them, and he turns around. Leaves.

He feels better with the car around him, the doors closed, even welcomes the fucking rain that splashes a thick blur on the windows, the grey haze over everything. He doesn't need this. Maybe he should just give up on… It's just buying dinner, what normal people do. People who can just talk to other people, at _dinner_ , and not feel…

But there'll be rice in the house, or one of those cups of instant ramen Midori likes to slurp at home after a late night out. He doesn't need much, just some peace, and not worrying about anybody – not about dragging Morioka into this, Morioka who doesn't know how to be careful and hasn't had to learn what to be scared of; not about himself. Dinner at home, alone, will be good.

And now he's sitting in the car and he isn't starting it.

Because it doesn't _have_ to mean hiding away alone, or didn't, hasn't for years now, and… something must be wrong with him to be avoiding the one place where none of this is a problem, where he doesn't feel hunted. To be sitting here like this when he has Tanaka demanding his presence, when he can go and enjoy himself and talk to people who know about him and don't _care_ , if he can only avoid that one escort, and how hard can it be? How hard can it be just to be… normal?

He's going to stop acting like he's got any reason at all to stay away, like he's suddenly a stranger uncertain of his welcome.

He fishes out his phone and dials Tanaka's number.


	12. Chapter 12

### Monday 29 September

"The guy's a fucking asshole no matter how you look at it!"

The break room is noisy, a whole bunch of them getting ready for a Monday afternoon when business travellers are back in town and local family men can blame work if they stay out late.

Daytime TV is on, too, with its stupid commercials for loan consolidations and senior health insurance, and even stupider soap operas.

"You just like him because he's pretty," Satoshi adds, over his shoulder, as he heads out to hit the shower, stopping briefly for Koichi who is coming in damp and rosy-skinned and with his towel around his head.

"But he _is_ pretty," Hina says. "In an evil mastermind rape-slay-and-pillage kind of way. Still pretty."

"My girlfriend's really into him," Tadayoshi says sulkily, and it sounds like a long term grudge. "I don't get it. I prefer Cloud."

Jin has no opinion, he never got into the game. He looks at Koichi beside him, who shrugs. "Cloud. But I don't feel strongly. Did you hear about the big closing down sale at Oscar's? Your height, they might have some of the good stuff left even now."

"Could be I bought some of it yesterday," Danny says sheepishly while he's putting lotion into those curls which never do what he wants them to. "But I didn't clear them out."

"It's the hair," Hina is saying. "Maybe you should dye yours silver, too."

Danny pokes Yuuya, who has removed his suit from his locker and is pulling the cleaner's plastic wrap off. "I saw some for shorties, too."

"Thank you," Yuuya says politely, and then they all turn because the door is opening again.

"Hey, Takahisa!" Shota waves his hairbrush at the newcomer. Takahisa squeezes past Tadayoshi and Hina and dumps his bag on the bench next to him. "Did Satoshi tell you he let Nakamaru's sheik guy use the masterclass toys on him?"

Jin turns back to discussing cheap designer suits, only barely catching Takahisa's surprised, "Satoshi? But he's tiny."

"We can go check the suits out together if you like," he says to Yuuya, not that he needs anything new just now.

"That would be nice," Yuuya says. "I'd like another dark blue one."

"Dude, and get kicked the hell out by Ootomo?" Tadayoshi is laughing now. " _You_ could get away with it."

"… took all night to get…" Shota's voice is rising and falling, and Yuuya is looking over in his direction.

Jin roots around his holdall – he's sure he put new socks in it, and sometimes he thinks it would make sense for the insides of these things to be white so you can find all your black stuff again. Instead it's like diving into a cave.

"Forgot something?" Koichi says easily. They share stuff around in an emergency, as long as they can get a decent fit. Socks are easy. But still.

"Hope not," Jin says.

"Now he's going to take Nino to New York for Christmas and Paris for New Year. Five star hotels all the way."

"Ask him to make a special ad?" Tadayoshi is saying enthusiastically. "Sephiroth cosplay in the dungeon."

Jin's found his socks, gives Koichi a triumphant smile. "Socks."

"Socks," Koichi confirms. He's rolled on deodorant and is flapping his arms a bit to make it dry quickly. "You got any appointments today?"

"No," Jin says. "Would have, but we made it an outside date on Saturday instead. You?"

" _That_ much?" Yuuya's voice, sounding awed, and Jin makes himself not look to where Yuu-chan has joined the conversation about Satoshi and sheiks and… stuff. It's not his business.

"… too old to know who Sephiroth _is_."

"Relaxation at four, nothing else. But there's this guy from Friday who said he might be coming back tonight for more chatting." Koichi makes finger quotes. "Guess I'll see. Hey, there's Kamenashi."

Jin's eyes dart to the door and his stomach towards the floor, but it's not the door, of course not, it can't be, stupid, it's the TV, some worthy boring daytime campaign to brighten the lonely housewife's life. Jin looks long enough to note it's about bullying, doesn't laugh out loud and turns away.

"Damn, he's yummy," Danny says. "He must be the youngest client to come here since Takki."

"Hell, yes, ask Ootomo about kink rates! Or ask Hina here," Takahisa's voice soars above the background murmur as a few others are watching Kamenashi be fulsome about ethics and the efforts of the little people, too, and Jin can't decide what's worse.

"Good for him," Tadayoshi nods at the TV. "There was this guy in my junior high, he was a fucking beast and nobody stopped him."

"We had one but we ganged up on him one day, seven of us, put him in hospital. Got a week's detention but it was worth it."

"The price depends on what exactly you let them…"

Jin tucks his shirt in his trousers, looks for the belt. Koichi moves to the mirrors with a can of hair spray and a comb and starts fussing around.

"…went with a golden shower instead, and…"

Jin stops listening, just stops. He doesn't want to know if any of the guys… doesn't want _think_ which clients and look at them and _wonder_ and it doesn't matter because not for any money in the world...

He takes a deep breath, he won't be sick. Nothing to do with him anymore. 

He fumbles the belt through the holes and forceshis feet into his shoes. His hair will be okay. He grabs the jacket and slings it over his shoulder, the elevator has mirrors.

A quick squeeze past some guys and then he's out, arranging his clothes, heading for the safety of the lounge.

*~*~*

Unusually for him, he's the first one down. He bows politely towards the two clients who are there but doesn't linger. The stocky bald one is somebody who tends to go with Jaejoong for relaxations; the tall old guy with folds of skin dangling off his face like those ugly dogs is on his way to becoming a regular of Koichi's.

He turns the big TV on instead, flips it to some nature channel for starters. The rest of them will be sitting around here while they wait. He slides down a little in one of the single leather chairs, leaving the couches for those who prefer them. He can see the door from here if he turns his head a bit, but isn't immediately on display. His favourite seat lately.

Yuuya appears, bowing to the two waiting clients just like Jin and stopping briefly to exchange a few words with each, leaving them laughing and winking at him before he moves on towards Jin, who tries to look ready to talk about anything Yuuya might have on his mind now.

Thankfully, Yuuya takes one glance at the screen and squeals, "Oh! Penguins!", dropping on the couch close to Jin. "They're so cute!"

Jin starts to relax again, as much as he ever does in the lounge when… well. Six days since Kamenashi grabbed him, and counting.

More and more of the guys join them, Danny sprawling out on the far side of the couch from Yuuya, Takahisa squeezing in between them a few minutes later; Jin noticed them chatting before and they seem to get on well, which is good. Jaejoong sits down with his client, and Koichi doesn't even bother, just bows and smiles invitingly and leads the man upstairs.

Mondays are rarely sophisticated and the luxury escorts tend to stay away; Mondays you get the desperate quickies, the relaxations with the guys who had to play nice with their families all weekend and are nipping in for a palate cleanser; not the relaxed, measured appointments of the days later in the week. Still, for the same reason Mondays can get busy and most of them want a slice.

When a pair of new clients arrives, Jin sits up at once; he'll join any group just so he doesn't look too randomly available, just in case.

He ends up sitting at their table and trying to make small talk about expensive cars. Satoshi, Danny and Hina have come along – a bit of variety on offer for the new guys while everybody finds out what they like. Yuuya and Takahisa are staying with the penguins, who have been exposed as ferocious predators; they'll have first dibs on any strangers that appear next, together with Tadayoshi and Shota.

The new guests are business guys, shy about saying which companies they actually own, trying hard instead to discuss speed limits and cruise control, something which at least doesn't distract Jin from watching the door. One of them is fascinated by Danny's curls, and Jin guesses that's a sell at least for tonight. In the end, the other one goes with Satoshi, and Jin gets himself some water from the bar before having a look around while the place is still filling up.

Yuuya is already gone – that was quick. Half the unattached guys are hanging around the retired Toyota exec with the snapping dentures who likes to throw money around on weekdays and be the center of attention. Yamatani has arrived, too, in the corner with his newspaper and his tea, and Jin wanders over. They both know they won't get together today, but it's nice just to have a quick chat, even though Jin's determined not to let the quick chat last an hour like he used to, he's got to find somebody to make arrangements with before—

He's looking at the door again and there is Ohishi, looking around the room searchingly, and that's weird because they just _had_ their date. But Jin's not about to complain, even if so soon after Saturday Ohishi might only spring for a relaxation. He excuses himself from Yamatani and goes to say hello.

"Ah," says Ohishi with a polite smile, "Jin. I should… I need to… may I buy you a drink?"

Jin's not sure what to make of the diffidence, not Ohishi's normal style, but he nods agreeably, chooses one of Yuuya's green cocktails and lets Ohishi decide where they should sit. Is a little surprised when it ends up being one of the restaurant tables; when the drink in front of Ohishi is coffee.

"Listen, Jin," Ohishi says, playing with the rings on his thick stubby fingers that like to fondle Jin's balls. "I thought it's just polite… we've been pretty good together. I like you."

Right. Jin can tell where this is going. But maybe he can try— "I like you too," he says, but god. He's never going to be good at this.

"Yeah," Ohishi says vaguely, thick eyebrows drawn together. "And you know, I feel a bit bad about this, but the thing is, I feel like I should give myself a chance to… to grow, to try some variety, to…" He laughs nervously. "Not always to go for the same thing on the menu, I guess. I know that sounds bad."

Jin hears a lot worse in his position. This doesn't get to him. He shrugs faintly. "Don't worry about it." They're all used to it.

He wonders if he should suggest different styles, different ways of fucking – Ohishi's never been experimental, always the same viagra-assisted suck-and-fuck with softcore porn in between, and Jin liked that, he always knew what was coming and usually how long it would take. Maybe he should have taken the initiative sooner, made things more interesting for the guy. "Do you—"

"So I've asked Ootomo-san to cancel our standing arrangement," Ohishi says, and Jin shuts up. If he's already spoken to Ootomo, it's a done deal.

"I see," he says, thinks how best to handle this, what the career-conscious whore would do now. Smiles and doesn't care how fake it might seem. "But I hope that we can still meet occasionally?" he tries. "When you feel like something familiar perhaps?"

"Of course," Ohishi says, "of course. I look forward to it." He pushes his half-empty cup back and stands.

Jin stands too, bows. "Thank you for telling me in person." The guy didn't have to do that. "I look forward to seeing you again."

And Ohishi moves off, towards the seating areas. Jin sees him catch Shota's eyes before he turns away.

It's not a tragedy, of course it's not. Just annoying, because it means another day of hanging around in the lounge having to take anything that comes, having to work for it. Annoying because it was one of three regular weekly comforts, and unless he learns better to charm guys straight into paying to fuck him, it means quite a drop in income or finding a lot more dicks to suck.

Not a tragedy, not even a crisis. Just… it doesn't exactly feel good, either. And maybe he should go see Ootomo, just to apologize for not being able to keep this one. Maybe that would be good form.

And then he stops _that_ thought because much as Ootomo likes his blow jobs, he's a driven enough businessman to like it even better if his staff do the work they're meant to do. So.

He starts looking around the lounge again. Ohishi has Shota and Takahisa toasting him and giggling at his come-ons. Definitely a new style. Jin lets his eyes sweep past quickly.

Yamatani is no longer alone; Handa has joined him and they'll be talking about the rotary club. Jin decides to leave them in peace and goes back to the TV.

"No luck?" Tadayoshi says. He's changed the channel to the news.

Jin shrugs. "Mid-life crisis." Because it's not just Jin to whom it happens, they have that word for it, when a regular client wants to experiment again. It's not just him.

And it'll get busier soon.

Only it takes a while, it's early yet. Koichi comes back, muttering things about flatulence as he flops onto the couch. Jaejoong returns next. By the time the door opens it's almost half an hour later, and it's Suzuki.

They all grimace at each other.

Jaejoong waves his hand generously at the rest of them. "No, after you, really," he says. "I insist."

"Client roulette," Tadayoshi says brightly, and they get up, let the guy have a choice.

Jin thinks of Yuuya and bath soap hand jobs, and the fact that he does need a client tonight, and pastes on a welcoming smile. Still, he feels guiltily relieved when Suzuki disappears with Tadayoshi after one round of drinks.

Satoshi is back and has joined Handa and Yamatani. Yuuya is still gone – must have been lucky and got a comfort. Jin goes back to waiting, eats a sandwich, waits some more, watches Satoshi go off with Handa. Tries two newcomers with Shota and Takahisa but is left behind, and waits some more.

Around seven things get lively when four sober-suited businessmen appear. The second wave of relaxations just finished, too, so most of the guys are around, only Hina missing, and Satoshi who skipped out for dinner with Ninomiya.

They end up with a few seating groups pushed together and several large bottles of champagne, playing a silly drinking game designed to make everybody lose their inhibitions fast. Jin's okay with that, even with the unsubtle fondling that's the object of the game. At least it means he doesn't have to sweat over finding clever things to say. All the moving around also makes it easy to keep an eye on the door.

So he makes sure to seem pleased about being felt up, return the fondling with some enthusiasm, and look like he's drinking the booze and enjoying it.

In the end, though, the clients pick Yuuya, Koichi, Tadayoshi and Jaejoong.

"Damn," Shota says on the way back to the TV. "I fancied the not-so-ugly one. I could really do with another relaxation sometime tonight."

"You mean the one who didn't have hair growing out of his nose?" Takahisa asks with a bouncy grin.

"Or his ears."

"But some on his head," Danny says. "We sure ask a lot. I've only had one, too."

Takahisa nods. "Yeah… but it's not even eight."

Jin says nothing.

There's billiard on the TV now, not Jin's choice of entertainment no matter how often Junno explains how cool it is. At least it's not likely to get him too distracted. Shota beside him is sipping hot tea and commenting on the player's butts. Other circumstances, this would be peaceful.

"Hey," Shota hisses next to Jin but Jin's already seen, he's still watching the door, and Sakurai Sho has just come in. Jun isn't around on Monday nights.

Shota and Jin smile at each other and get up, and Satoshi quickly rises, too. "I'm sure he likes the dainty type when he gets a chance."

The three of them get Sakurai comfortable on one of the light-coloured couches and Jin makes sure, for once, that he's actually sitting on the couch next to the client, not in a chair with some space to himself. He's trying; and this one is a good one to try it with.

Sakurai is not exactly young, but still on the youngish side for Johnny's clients, and he's got a pretty interesting job. Jin doesn't mind talking about sports in very general terms, and with Sakurai he can do that because Sakurai knows a bit about lots of stuff, isn't just a fan of one thing like Jin. In fact, Sakurai knows a _lot_ about lots of stuff and he likes to hear himself talk, and it's actually fun to listen to him.

Half an hour has passed in no time; the champagne bottle is almost empty and Satoshi and Shota have made their excuses one by one as it became clear that Sakurai is mostly addressing himself to Jin. Jin is on his second bottle of beer, and Sakurai has told him about funny backstage incidents during the Olympics, what the national women's volleyball team _really_ like to do during their teambuilding exercises, and which of the four main football commentators takes longest in the make-up room, and Jin says, "You must be really busy with all that stuff going on, then."

Sakurai shrugs. "It's my job. I love it. And it's got amazing perks."

Free passes to all the big games, Jin thinks; exclusive interviews with people like Kazu Miura or Marquinhos. Business class flights to Australia, America, Greece, Italy.

"…nice to have people take notice of what you say," Sakurai is saying, smiling at his champagne flute. "It goes beyond sports, once they have decided to give you their respect. Right now, I'm involved in a big campaign against bullying in schools, I couldn't—"

Jin _feels_ his heart miss a beat. It's a horrible, dizzying feeling. Then it's over.

"That's… good," he manages when there's a pause he realizes he's expected to fill. "You… good." He stares at his beer. "That's, um, an important topic."

Maybe it's a different campaign, maybe… can there be two? Sure, if the government suddenly decides it's important.

He puts his beer down because his head is reeling enough.

"Would you like another one?" Sakurai asks.

"No. No, I… there's still some in there, it's okay, thank you." Jin takes a breath, tries to look normal when he sees Sakurai's slightly puzzled expression. "Do many stars like you get involved in these campaigns?"

"Oh," Sakurai says, "this one has far bigger stars than me. Some veteran actors and actresses, some famous singers. We're there to help the people who have been working on the issue for years get recognition."

It's the same one. Jin even recognizes some of the same words from that ad earlier on, party line he guesses.

"Right," he says. Drains his beer after all. "Uh, do you have to see them often?"

Sakurai gives him a curious look. "It's not a hardship," he says with a smile.

Of course not. Jin is an idiot.

"No, I know, I mean… it all takes time, doesn't it. Must be stressful."

Of course Kamenashi doesn't treat Sakurai like a cheap hole to fuck, and Sakurai probably thinks Kamenashi is someone who deserves respect, too, and now Jin's wondering why they don't just fuck each _other_ , and this is not good.

"Coming here is a very welcome relaxation," Sakurai agrees – pleasantly, Jin notes – and he's waiting for some response, but Jin's neck hurts and he stretches his shoulders a little, looks around a bit. Two other clients, small groups around them, nothing he couldn't join but this is better, surer, he ought to make this work.

"Uh," he says, trying to think of something to say, something that's not related to Kamenashi only now his thoughts are back to spinning around the asshole. "We are always glad to see you here."

Lame but at least he formed words, he'll count that as a plus. Maybe he should just push ahead, get them to a room because this guy is _not_ Kamenashi, there's no reason why they shouldn't work, if Jin can just get his head together, so he says, "If you'd like, we could—"

And stops the smile before it turns into a manic grin because he _hears_ himself sound half-hearted and he knows he looks fake and if he was a client, he'd run for the hills. In the end he gives up, shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

"No problem," Sakurai says, and he doesn't sound like it is one, there'll be no complaints. That he doesn't sound sad either is hardly surprising.

"Well, it was nice speaking to you," Sakurai says, and that's Jin's sign for getting up and getting out of the way.

"You too," he mumbles, feeling stupid. "Really." He bows. "Please excuse me."

He moves as far away as he can, all the way back to the TV seats, checking the room on the way. He should wait before joining another group, so it doesn't seem like too much of a snub for Sakurai. But the place is fairly empty, and Jin will be right there for snatching up if—

There's an insisting tightness behind his eyes.

He gets a couple of aspirin from the concierge, then heads for the break room to chill for ten, be someplace where he can close his eyes without wondering who's going to sneak up on him.

He needs a client. Just one will be fine but after Ohishi, he could really _do_ with one for tonight just so he doesn't feel like a total loser.

Doesn't help that he knows he was an idiot over Sakurai – he could have _had_ that one, and it was a good one, and he had to go and ruin it because…

Fucking Kamenashi.

He's got to get over that.

He stretches out on the couch, legs dangling over the armrest, arm across his eyes. When he's rational, when he's up here and not down there, it's not too difficult. He doesn't have to take Kamenashi's dates – he can just say no next time even if the guy creeps up on him creepily and acts like he already owns him. Might not seem like the most logical option when he's short on clients anyway, but on the other hand, he'll be more use with the normal clients if he doesn't have to worry about Kamenashi… so in the long run, probably good.

That's what he'll do. And if Ootomo wants to give him grief… well, then he'll have to re-think because he does still need the job, but maybe if he explains… anyway, he'll deal with that if it happens.

He can turn the asshole down. He just needs to keep reminding himself of that.

Right.

And the aspirin has kicked in, and he _still_ needs a client for tonight, so he had better go down again.

*~*~*

He stops at the screen as usual – then reminds himself it's stupid, he can turn the asshole _down._ Straightens his shoulders, walks in. It's almost nine.

He joins the first group he comes to, and okay, so he can still watch the door from where he is but that's just lucky coincidence. He says something about the weather to the nearest client, then realizes it would have helped if he'd looked outside first. But at least the man laughs, showing crooked teeth and an impressive array of gold crowns. Jin doesn't think he's seen him before, he's pretty sure he'd have remembered.

He accepts the drink he's offered, makes it a shot because he's hoping they can move upstairs soon, is disappointed when the man orders a bottle of champagne for himself and the entire table at the same time.

The door opens twice in brief succession, but the new arrivals are taller. Briefly, he considers abandoning tooth guy to see if one of the new ones is in more of a hurry; then he wonders whether he should maybe just start feeling the man next to him up a bit to move things on. He shifts unobtrusively, at least enough for their legs to touch, and makes sure to laugh at the joke he just almost missed.

Feels stupid and ridiculous when the man shifts accordingly so that they are once again not touching, but at least he's got a clear sign that he'll probably do better elsewhere.

Half an hour and two groups later, that thought has turned out to be wrong. Sure, the first one was just unlucky, the teams had already been pretty much decided, and that's Jaejoong and Takahisa gone again. But the second one… he guesses maybe he came on too clumsily and it didn't help that he couldn't see the door from where he was sitting and felt like he constantly had to turn around.

More water from the bar, and then he checks out the far away seating corner where Yamatani is long gone, turns around again, and… there's Eda, and Jin folds himself quickly behind a pillar, and closes his eyes and takes a breath.

Eda's his for the taking; he knows that. Not just that, he's a comfort. All he needs to do is look happy to see him and say that Akamine scored well on Saturday or that the referee should never have given that one free kick, and accept the drink Eda will offer to buy him.

And Eda will call him Jin-kun and enthusiastically dissect the first match with him while they have that drink. And then they'll go upstairs and Eda will be funny about Verdy's performance while Jin works to get him excited, and spreads his legs so Eda can fumble his fingers into him, and gives up an answer when Eda seeks his views about which player might be bought by what club, until it's finally time for fucking and Eda shuts _up_.

That's the way it went the first time, and that's the way it's gone since then, whenever Jin wasn't quick or clever enough to look busy or hide from the guy because Jin could hardly tell him to just _fucking stop_.

Still, there are worse clients.

And this one is his own fault, his first comfort when he'd been too new and stupid to keep stuff that matters safe and away from this, when he'd been so glad that he could talk to a client in the lounge and laugh with them without feeling totally fake.

Maybe he can't blame Eda for thinking they've got something. Maybe Jin's just a stupid whore that he even cares, maybe he should simply be able to forget, ignore the teasing about his favourite players and the league tables and the pally reminders of how they _bonded_ when he lies back for Eda to enjoy the taste of his dick, and not hate it so fucking much.

Because there's worse. He knows that for a fact by now.

So he takes a breath and turns the corner. He hasn't had a client all night, and he's already bailed on a possible comfort, which was… blind panic, maybe, and he won't do that again but Sakurai will probably never come near him again, either. He should at least bring himself to go through with this. How bad can it be? He's done it before.

So he looks across, and it's no more than a few seconds before Eda is looking his way again, and Jin nods and smiles.

*~*~*

Jin bows one last time, politely, and the door shuts on Eda's cheerful, "until next time, Jin-kun!", and that's that over. He closes his eyes as he waits for the elevator down, not keen on the chilly stairwell.

It's after midnight, after the last trains. It's the dorm for tonight. He doesn't like spending money on a taxi fare at the best of times and a day when he's lost a regular sure isn't one of those.

He hadn't expected to stay so late. This day's not turned out like he expected in many ways, though looking back it's like he should have seen it coming.

It doesn't matter. Ohishi doesn't matter, Eda doesn't matter and the stupid soccer… for all Eda knows, he was just telling stories anyway, a smart whore would have, and at least he never mentioned music, to anyone, and he'll never have to deal with Eda again once this is over, _all_ over, and never think about it when he… goes to a match or watches TV soccer with… some friends, some time, when it's all over.

He's hungry. That's why he's feeling so wobbly. The sandwich was five hours ago, before Sakurai, and he hasn't had a warm meal today. He worked out that he'd have to stay over sometime during the run-up to the second fucking session, but while he's telling Eda how much he loves to get it nice and slow isn't a good time to call a halt and ask him to order snacks. Anyway he didn't want to have to start over.

No cartons of instant noodles are conveniently lying around the break room. A quick look in the refrigerator they all share reveals several bottles of cold tea, two lemons, and Jun's specially mixed facial cream.

He checks his watch. He is not going to wander through the dark back streets to the nearest twenty-four-hour conbini. He wouldn't do it even if he wasn't feeling worn out and unsteady with this stupid endless day.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to.

*~*~*

Maeda-san looks up from the steel work-surfaces he is polishing.

"Jin-san, good morning. They kept you late again?"

The restaurant closes at midnight, the kitchen half an hour before that, and the cook always stays last, putting the finishing touches to the cleaning up once the underlings have dealt with the rough stuff. Jin found that out on his third night at the dorm, when he got lost in the building and ended up in the kitchen somehow.

"Yeah," he says, and bows slightly as Maeda gestures for him to come in and grab one of the slotted-away folding stools. He lets himself drop on it and props his arm up on a clean bit of worktop, leans his head against his hand. "Didn't expect it." Didn't expect too many things. "Any chance—?"

"Spaghetti?" Maeda says with a smile. "Or something different for a change?"

Jin can't even tell how grateful he is that for once, something today is easy. "Spaghetti," he nods. And then he yawns, and apologizes, and adds, "Thank you."

Maeda doesn't look at all like one expects a cook to look. He's slim, almost as small as Satoshi, moves gracefully, and if he wasn't in his forties, with his face scarred from a serious case of acne, he could have been an escort. Of course that's stupid, Jin thinks fuzzily, he's much better off being a cook.

"Not a good day?" Maeda says, and Jin pulls himself together enough to say something not too whiny, and ask about the restaurant, and then they chat about seasonal vegetables and customers with weird food allergies while they wait for the spaghetti to be ready.

Jin's not sure why Maeda does this for him; he knows it's not his habit to do late-night specials for tired whores. And it's not like Jin even offered anything in exchange the first time round, he'd been too new and disoriented for it to occur to him.

Jin actually feels better now that they've established a… well, an arrangement. Cook cooks for him, he offers what he's got to offer, everybody happy. The man is nice, Jin is grateful, it's no hardship.

The spaghetti are delicious as usual; Jin doesn't know how Maeda does it when he just cuts up a tomato and mixes it through them with some olive oil and herbs.

It feels almost like a sacrilege to polish them off in five minutes, but he feels so much better afterwards, warm and grateful and still tired but no longer quite so horrible.

"Thank you," he says again, and gets up to rinse the plate and fork; Maeda's already cleared away the rest, removed the white apron. "I really… that was really good."

"Good. I won the recipe off an Italian star chef in a drunken 'go fish' match." Maeda smiles, and Jin smiles back.

Then he drops his eyes briefly, a little. "May I…"

He doesn't need to say more, it's established now. And Maeda's hand drops below his beltline and… hovers, and he's staring at Jin strangely… and then he sighs, puts both hands into his pockets.

"Have you looked at yourself at all, boy?"

Jin blinks into Maeda's frown. He wipes his mouth – tomato, maybe? No. Maybe his hair sucks? "What?"

Maeda looks at him like he's deciding whether to forgive Jin for being an idiot. "Go sleep. You've done plenty for today."

Which… Jin laughs once, tiredly, because if the man only knew, and no matter what, he's not so tired he can't keep up his end of the deal. "It's fine, really—"

"It's not fine," Maeda interrupts and reaches for his coat, pulls it on. "Long day, you don't need this. _I_ don't need this." He starts on the buttons, focussing with his chin down. "I don't need to be the guy who makes your day even longer and crappier."

"You didn't," Jin says quickly. "You made me spaghetti!" It's the nicest thing anybody has done for him all day.

"Yeah," Maeda says, "spaghetti." He's straightening his front, adjusting cuffs. But his eyes come to linger on Jin's mouth and Jin knowsthat look, knows the man is thinking of what Jin can do with his lips and his tongue.

"I really—"

"Well," Maeda interrupts him again, "if you insist on staying, just make sure you turn out the lights when you leave."

He turns as he buttons up his collar, and then he's gone.


	13. Chapter 13

### Friday 03 October

"It's just, they're artists, you know?" Tanaka rolls his eyes as he leans back into the red leather, but breaks into a grin at the same time; it's a fond exasperation. He hooks ringed fingers into the beltloops of his jeans, deep black and untorn in concession to the dress code, and a bounce of his knee jingles the modest strings of chains around his hips that are a concession to who he is. "And they didn't even have a manager until the summer," he says with a side glance at Takahisa, who asked the initial question, "and I swear, it's like herding cats."

"Do you have to deal with that, though?" Takahisa asks. "If you're the producer, don't you have people for that?"

"Actual managers?" the strawberry blond escort on Tanaka's left throws in; Satoshi, Kame remembers from their introduction on his last visit. Strange enough that they'd never met before, when he seems quite Tanaka's type and the two know each other. He's pulled up an armchair next to Tanaka's couch, after Danny scored the second seat there. Kame has chosen an armchair, too, a rather obvious signal in this place.

Takahisa is leaning in from the second occupied two-seater, shorter hair making him look more mature, and more attractive than the last time he was in a group with Kame.

"Sure there are managers," Tanaka says, tough-guy patterned eyebrows furrowing briefly, "but I like a hands-on approach. Like to know what's going on. Besides, they're good guys. Though you—" he gives Danny a brief nod, a quick grin, "—wouldn't like their stuff. It's rock, stuff for softies, not real men."

Danny grins back at him, lifts the Margarita Tanaka bought him in a salute. "Here's to stuff for men."

"Why do you produce it then?" Satoshi asks. Kame remembers asking that too, after they'd known each other for a while and Tanaka told him about the sultry-voiced female Soul trio he'd signed.

"Diversity," Tanaka tells him. "Better to have more than one thing in your portfolio. Keeps you fresher, too, open to new influences for your own music."

"Musical cross-pollination," Danny observes.

"Fertilization." Yuuya's voice, coming bright from where he's arranged himself on the couch next to Takahisa. "It's very important."

"Like insemination?" Satoshi asks, and giggles. Most of them laugh, because it doesn't matter that they've seen it coming miles away.

"But that's not what bees do." Takahisa looks at Satoshi, then at the rest of them when Satoshi just blinks at him. "Right?"

Tanaka finds this wildly amusing. "Right," he snorts, and the look he gives Takahisa is vaguely considering in a way Kame recognizes. "And it's not what we do either, I think it's against contractual law or something."

Takahisa opens his mouth, but Danny reaches over to thump him on the knee, and in the end they just laugh.

"So you still write your own songs? Do you still do concerts, too?" Yuuya picks up again, and Kame throws him a look. The brief moment of discomfort when he noticed Yuuya in the group headed their way after dinner faded quickly at the boy's sunny smile and polite greeting, and the few sentences they've exchanged since have been pleasant and genuine.

Tanaka makes his usual protest that he's thirty-two, not dead, and he'll still be rapping and breakdancing when he's seventy-five and beat all those wet-behind-the-ears newcomers who are just pop stars trying to look cool in funny hats.

"You must give us a demonstration of the real thing here some time," Yuuya says, only half teasing.

Tanaka makes a show of appraising the seating groups closest to them – two fat financiers in stiff suits and choking ties; sober politicians trying to unsober with the help of champagne and energetic young men, the environment minister being courted by the tall porn star again. Further away is old Yamatani – perhaps waiting for Jin or perhaps recovering from the experience, either way unlikely to appreciate an impromptu rap session.

"Not sure how well that'd go over with our esteemed fellow revellers," Tanaka says, echoing Kame's thoughts.

Jin, thankfully, is nowhere to be seen, hasn't been since Kame arrived. Busy as Friday nights are, it's not surprising that even Jin manages to score occasionally. Not that Kame cares, as long as he isn't _here_.

"You could educate the shadow education minister," says Danny. "Generations of school kids would thank you."

Kame sips at his wine while he tries to imagine Tsukada moonwalking, surprising himself when he ends up laughing. Danny smiles at him, and Takahisa produces his deep grin, and Kame raises his glass at them, feels himself relax a little more. He should have come in sooner.

"I've never heard any of your music," Yuuya says to Tanaka, sounding very intrigued now.

Tanaka wags an indulgent finger. "That's not a very flattering thing to say."

"Maybe I'm a softie," Yuuya says, and then he sends Kame a passing look, friendly and a little flirty, like Kame might be a fellow softie who would understand. No, there's no problem here, he didn't leave the wrong impression. Kame admits he's relieved to know that.

"Now Danny here," Tanaka declares, "he can educate you, he's got all my albums." Kame knows that Tanaka gave him the last one, perhaps as an apology for really not being interested in him. "Unless," Tanaka adds with a little grin, "you'd prefer me to educate you myself some time?"

"That could be very interesting," Yuuya says eagerly. "You definitely should." Yuuya's smile hits Tanaka first, but lingers on Kame while Tanaka laughs, and Kame finds himself a little flustered.

The boy is not his type; and even if he were, Kame isn't looking for intimate company tonight. He called in advance this time after fixing a day with Tanaka, determined to be a little more organized, though he wasn't surprised to find Tatsuya unavailable. It's no great tragedy; tonight is for seeing Tanaka again and for simply being here, being normal. It feels good.

"And now I can't even buy you a proper drink," Tanaka says to Yuuya, deep regret in his voice, and Yuuya apologizes with a funny little bow.

The other escorts don't say no when Tanaka offers drinks all around, and everyone enjoys the flirting that breaks out until they've settled on tequila shots and an 'Emperor's Delight' for Yuuya. Kame empties his glass, only the second of the evening; safer without lowered inhibitions, better without surprising developments. Even though he worried for nothing – if Yuuya or Takahisa or Danny heard any funny stories, they weren't impressed by them, and the good-humoured flirting that spills over in his direction now and then is proof of it.

He's made a date with Tatsuya for Sunday, at the apartment, because he has filming on the weekend. He's looking forward to that, to having things normal and relaxed between them and knowing everything is definitely all right.

The waiter arrives with the shot glasses and the bottle of Extra Anejo Tanaka decided he might as well buy, and another glass of wine for Kame. They're all giving him amused looks even though they heard him give the order.

"I want to take it slow," Kame says easily. He's not into shots for social drinking, anyway.

"That's because you're not just a softie, Kame, but also a lightweight," Tanaka teases, as he starts pouring out triples for everybody at the table.

"Says the guy who looks like the bullies keep taking his lunch money," Kame shoots back good-naturedly.

"Yeah, but I can hold my booze," Tanaka says. "And besides, that's all firm, compact muscle."

Takahisa and Satoshi nod agreement. "You work out a lot, do you, Tanaka-san," Satoshi prompts.

"Sure I do," Tanaka says proudly. "Got to be strong, supple, for moves like mine. But Takahisa here, he works out, too."

"So do I," says Danny, and Tanaka grins at him.

"What's your benchpress?"

The numbers mean nothing to Kame, though he can tell from Tanaka's discerning nod that Danny isn't scoring badly in the fitness sweepstakes But it's Takahisa who earns some oohs and aahs and a slightly longer grin from Tanaka with his counter-figure.

Kame leans back and lets them talk about all sorts of machines Kame would probably have to hire a trainer for, and allows himself to just enjoy being here.

Yes, he should have come in sooner. The atmosphere, when it's undisturbed like this, with just a buzz of gentle excitement on a Friday night, feels like being on vacation, and he's missed that. Even the scare with Morioka looks less upsetting now: Tanaka didn't even see the pictures, surely a good sign, and just talking it over helped, too, hearing Tanaka be scathing about paparazzi on one hand, but doubtful that there's any real danger.

Takahisa is grinning and teasing Yuuya about his gym performance, and the easy nudge which Yuuya gives him with his thigh and his elbow looks like a familiar ritual.

Kame didn't know Tanaka had been with Takahisa and at first glance he wouldn't have expected him to fit Tanaka's preference, which tends to be for the short, delicate-looking type. But Kame can see how the boyish cheerfulness would appeal, and maybe now and then Tanaka is interested in a little more substance.

Not that it's his business, only perhaps in the sense that Kame is glad they look for different things in a companion.

"I perform fine when it matters," Yuuya informs his colleagues, then pulls it back from being a challenge with a quick bite of his lip and a blush that may or may not be deliberate. Kame smiles anyway when the boy reaps the fake outrage of his seniors.

"Do you go to the gym, Kamenashi-san?" Yuuya asks once the commotion starts to die down.

Yuuya is holding his eyes and his tongue flicks over his lips once, but it's a subtle come-on, as relaxed as everything else around Tanaka's table. Of course Tanaka won't end his evening alone; but the all-around lack of urgency is what makes it nice, and the fact that the escorts seem to be having genuine fun.

"I… run," Kame answers with a deprecating shrug. "I've tried the gym, but I prefer the freedom…" He stops, not really sure how to explain it. But Yuuya just smiles, and Kame finds himself smiling back. "And you see things along the way, it doesn't get so boring."

"I actually… I do go sometimes, you know," Yuuya says. "Well, we're meant to anyway, but you can hang out, and you can watch others do their stuff, it looks pretty cool when they're all sweaty. That's kind of nice."

"You _ogle_ us?" Satoshi swoops in, scandalized. "I'm going to keep my sweater on from now."

"I don't ogle _you_ ," Yuuya says, laughing, and points at Takahisa. "I ogle _him_."

"Why not me?" Danny sounds offended. "What's wrong with my muscles? I demand to be ogled."

"They're pretty good," Yuuya concedes, and it's not long before jackets have been shed and sleeves are rolled up, and Danny and Takahisa are comparing bulging biceps. Tanaka is enlisted to determine respective firmness, and consoles Danny by offering up his own arms for groping when he has to find for Takahisa.

They rope Satoshi and Yuuya in on it, too, and Satoshi wonders if Tanaka-san has been eating more because there's more to squeeze before you get to the muscle now, making Tanaka laugh.

"Softie," is Danny's verdict again when he pinches Yuuya in the side, which leads to them both feeling up Tanaka's abs through his t-shirt, to compare.

"Wow," Yuuya says, "those are solid," and when Tanaka punches a fist in the air in 'victory' mode, Kame can't quite resist.

"Worth ogling?" he asks.

Yuuya hmms thoughtfully, peeking over at Kame through hazel strands of hair. "But he's not naked." The _yet_ is unspoken, and Tanaka doesn't take him up on it but he's laughing and a little red in the face. Even if Tanaka is gravitating towards Takahisa tonight, Yuuya is certainly leaving an impression.

It's not long before everybody is comparing everybody else, and Kame ends up shedding his jacket and nodding at Satoshi's eagerly curious expression because Tanaka is just _daring_ him to. Satoshi's air of intense concentration draws Takahisa over for a joint examination and soon Kame has Satoshi crawling along the back of his armchair to feel both his arms at the same time, while Takahisa is leaning in from the front, and they have an expert consultation about which of Kamenashi-san's arms feels more muscular.

When Kame glances past Takahisa and sees Takuya approaching, he is unspeakably glad he didn't encourage anyone to fondle his abs.

Small mercies, he thinks while the first sweaty flash fades, and looks at Takahisa with a silent entreaty to please climb off him.

Takuya still looks tanned from the summer, and as good as ever, moving light and confident in a warm red shirt under a dark suit.

The way Kame stilled – or maybe shrunk in mortification – has not gone unnoticed, and while he's finding a not-at-all embarrassed smile for Takuya, a smile that says how pleased he actually is to see him, he notices stealth maneuvers to straighten cuffs and ties and hair all around him.

"It's good to see you after such a long time," Takuya says. "I keep meaning to tell you that what you did with your hair for that internet commercial in August really suits you." If Kame weren't blushing already, he knows he'd do it now.

"It's good to see you, too, Takuya-san." Under the circumstances, _good_ comes seasoned with more than just a pinch of self-consciousness, but that's not exactly new, even if he's normally not in the process of being felt up by Johnny's gym team. He's never gotten over the instant jolt of diffidence when Takuya rests his eyes on him and smiles and turns Kame into an awkward schoolboy going on his first date.

It usually passes. Kame assumes it's not a rare reaction, anyway.

"May I borrow a seat for a few minutes," Takuya addresses Yuuya and Takahisa, now quiet along with everybody else, and they bow several times as they squeeze up against the far end of their two-seater to make room. Takuya gives them a brief smile and a wave as he sits – "Please, do continue." – and somehow glasses are reappropriated circumspectly and Takahisa asks Tanaka a low-voiced, well-behaved question about his summer house.

Kame pulls his armchair toward Takuya's couch corner, closing the gap enough for easy conversation. Then he leans into the soft leather more, crosses his legs and waits for the rest of his body to catch up with the signals that he's ready to relax. "May I buy you a drink?"

"Thank you, but I can't stay long," Takuya says, nodding subtly in an unspecified direction. "I just wanted to stop by."

"I'm glad for it."

Takuya smiles, and it's not as if Kame ever had a crush on him, but there are moments when the sheer fact that Takuya likes him makes him feel a little funny. He lives with that.

"So, I hear you are playing a teacher now," Takuya says next. His hair has grown since Kame saw him last, chestnut strands flashing under the lights, a little messy at the front but neither artificially nor carelessly so. Takuya always looks exactly like he means to look. Or maybe that's just how it seems when he walks in and catches you off guard.

"One of the good guys, of course," Kame says. He knows how Takuya, mostly self-taught, feels about the state school system.

Takuya gives him a critical look. "That doesn't sound too enthusiastic."

That's always been the thing about Takuya – he's perceptive.

"It's a great role but I'd like something more challenging. I'd like to play a bad guy." He thinks for a moment, aware how unrealistic it is. "Or a medium guy. Or a good guy with some real flaws."

Takuya inclines his head, gives him a fondly appraising smile. "They won't let you. You're too pretty."

And Kame had just stopped blushing.

"How is the book coming along?" he changes the subject quickly. Takuya spends most of his time restoring old furniture. He's told Kame quite a few interesting stories about hunting up authentic materials and rescuing endangered pieces from thoughtless owners or their heirs. The theoretical research that goes into that is slowly adding up to a book. The three rests a week he works for Johnny's these days ensure that he doesn't have to worry about a regular job.

"I got sidetracked by a beautiful paulownia merchant chest with persimmon graining and amazing lockplates. Now I'm chasing for matching fern hand drawer pulls to go with it. But chapter twelve is almost finished, too."

Takuya is an engaging narrator, and the little story that comes with his latest project makes Kame laugh in the end, relax even more. It feels good, cultured but comfortable and _normal_ , just as it should. He admits he's never heard of lockplates before, but tells Takuya that he is still looking forward to a signed copy of the book so he can educate himself.

Takuya laughs. "When it's finished," he says with modest confidence, "I'll be happy to trade autographs." Another generous smile, and then it's time for him to go.

Kame doesn't want to know where he is going, turns back to the group. Danny has made his excuses by now, and Takahisa has moved to sit on the sofa next to Tanaka. Tanaka stares after Takuya for a brief and slightly awed moment, but then just shrugs when he meets Kame's eyes. Koki doesn't go for Kame's type, either.

Maybe once things are all sorted with Tatsuya, and Kame has a better grasp on his overall schedule, it could be nice to get together with Takuya for a full night, follow up on things without any sort of hurry.

When he reaches for his glass he notices they're almost out of drinks. After a token protest from Tanaka, his offer is accepted, and he finds himself taking orders for one glass of red wine and three of green gloop. Yuuya's alcohol-free beverages seem to be catching on.

He seeks a waiter with his eyes. The place is much busier now, some of the groups rowdier, some cozier. Jin is still nowhere to be seen, and just the thought of him rattles so uncomfortably across Kame's easy mood, he can't even say how glad he is for the man's absence. Must have been a comfort, or maybe some unfortunate guy ordered out.

Once the waiter has left again, he finds Yuuya's eyes on him, bright and curious. "I didn't know Takuya-senpai is writing a book about his antiques," he confesses. "He's so cool."

Kame doesn't want to encourage the kid, so he doesn't react when Yuuya lets his gaze drop along his body to say Kame isn't half bad, either. But the boy's smiles are infectious and they have a nice circle here, everybody enjoying themselves, so he is mostly unembarrassed when he concurs, "He _is_ pretty cool. I wouldn't know a fern hand drawer pull if I fell over it."

"I'm terrible with crafts and things," Yuuya says, curling up a leg and slinking into the corner of the couch.

"Tanaka-san is good at stuff like that," Kame says, and gives Tanaka's foot a little nudge with his own. "Go on, tell them about the cap and sneaker set you made for that one concert. The one that brought in almost three hundred thousand at the charity auction afterwards."

Tanaka makes a face. "It wasn't that great, honest," he says to Yuuya, who looks just as pleasantly interested to have the conversation head that way. "It was fun, sure, but it was a rush job at the end and the materials…"

Kame has heard this before. "Substandard rhinestones?"

Tanaka grins back at him. "Shut up. You do something, you gotta do it right, even if it's putting bling on leather."

Kame concedes the point along with everybody else.

"By the way, Kame," Tanaka says then, "speaking of autographs. Can you bring one in next time?"

"I sure can," Kame says, lifting it into a question at the end.

"I just like you so very much," Tanaka explains, with a badly acted look somewhere between ecstasy and horrible pain, and Kame laughs. Tanaka leans back a little to let the waiter reach across to deposit Satoshi's wine, and then he stage-whispers to Takahisa, "I like to get one every month, so I have a full set."

Fruit juice potions are distributed, too, and then the view across the table is clear again. "Singer from JUNGLELOW, that rock band I told you about earlier," Tanaka explains more seriously. "She's a fan." He reaches for his bright green glass. Everybody else waits to see what he'll make of it, but Tanaka doesn't even notice, has no reaction. "You know her, I think," he says instead, with a little frown of concentration. "You talked to her at the launch party this summer."

Kame remembers after a bit of mental digging; bright red hair and asymmetrically pierced ears, and they had a nice conversation about nothing to do with filming, even though Kame was approaching his two drinks limit and left soon after. "I didn't know she was a fan."

"She's a well-behaved one," Tanaka says. "Might have found out if you'd stuck around for a bit." For a fearsome rapper he can look weirdly mild sometimes, almost gentle.

Kame says nothing, shrugs an apology. It's good of Tanaka to invite him and they're nice parties, whether he brings Midori or not, but it gets tiring to watch himself, especially when he's having a drink, almost harder when he feels like he's among friends and has to worry about lines that may blur, gestures that may slip.

Tanaka considers him a moment longer, but there's nothing to be done, it's just life. Eventually Tanaka nudges Takahisa with a sprawling leg. " _Total_ lightweight," he says, eyes still on Kame, but he says it fondly.

"If you take orders for autographs, I know someone who'd be very happy," Satoshi says to Kame. His colleagues nod energetically.

It's not news to Kame. "I gave him one a while ago," he says. He's glad Koichi has stopped trying to land him, though. It would feel weird to sleep with a fan; maybe that's another reason Tanaka doesn't go with Danny.

Tonight, he is obviously planning to go with Takahisa, and soon. The earlier nudge has turned into a somewhat more intent perma-contact, and Tanaka's hand is on Takahisa's thigh as if to make sure his leg stays right where it is. Not that Takahisa shows any inclination to move; no, he's leaning his shoulder against Tanaka's and is stretching to whisper something in his ear that makes Tanaka look very pleased indeed.

"Do you find that your signature changes when you have to sign many autographs?" Yuuya asks Kame, and they all pretend that Takahisa hasn't just moved Tanaka's hand on his thigh in a rather more intimate direction.

"It happens to doctors, doesn't it," Satoshi says gamely. He knows he has no chance with Kame but good manners keep him from zeroing in on a new prospect straight away.

"By now, it's kind of settled into a practical scrawl," Kame says. "But I used to get terrible cramps at the start, and if there was a long session, my name would turn from Kamenashi Kazuya into Kame-Ka-scribble."

They both laugh. "So that's how you got that name?" Satoshi asks.

"Ka-scribble?" Yuuya asks innocently, and Satoshi takes a breath to explain before he sees Kame smile and catches on.

"No," Kame says then, "that was earlier." When requests for autographs were still few and far between and nobody thought twice about naming the shy newbie a turtle. "Maybe I should have started signing like that right away, though, and saved myself a bit of RSI." It's what the world is calling him anyway.

"So you were pretty young?" Yuuya asks, while Satoshi's eyes briefly focus on something or someone in the far corner.

Kame has to do the math for it. "I was nineteen," he says, because it was already spring by the time they started filming. "And I guess it just kind of stuck."

"They do that, nicknames," Yuuya says thoughtfully. "At least you didn't get one that sucks."

Satoshi is giving the group a last once-over before he sits up straight, ready to move on.

"Yes, that could have been worse," Kame says, and then leaves a pause.

"If you'll excuse me," Satoshi says with a smile. He bows to both Kame and Tanaka when he stands, thanking them for the drinks, and they in turn thank him for his company, the usual thing.

Tanaka is sitting forward on his sofa, too, elbows on his knees and one hand dangling between them while the other is holding on to Takahisa's, pulling him forward, too. "Nicknames, huh?" he says. "Don't think I ever had one."

"You'd have beaten them up," Kame says, knowing it's not true.

"Don't frighten my company away," Tanaka says with a wide, pleased grin. "Takahisa, I think we should go before this evil man can slander me any more."

"What is 'Joker', then?" Takahisa asks, giving Kame a quick, polite bow as they rise.

"That's my nom d'artiste," Tanaka says with dignity and a terrible accent. "I picked that myself." Which of course makes all the difference.

He gives Kame a brief questioning look, mildly guilty maybe, but they've had a very pleasant evening together and it's getting to that stage of the night.

"I'm fine here," Kame says easily, and Yuuya is smiling.

"I'll keep Kamenashi-san company," he says, no trace of innuendo, and that's fine, Kame will make sure he at least buys some more expensive drinks before Yuuya has to move on.

"I'll see you soon?" he says to Tanaka.

"Hey, it's not me who's never around," Tanaka says, taking the sting out of the accusation with a grin.

Kame bows his head. "I promise to do better."

"It would be good to see you around more, Kamenashi-san," Takahisa says candidly, and Tanaka goes, "you tell him," while Yuuya agrees with a slow nod, final reassurance that Kame shouldn't even need with how nice things have been between them all night, but it feels good anyway, and he can forget about that last time now.

When Tanaka and Takahisa have left to get a room, Yuuya picks up his nearly empty glass, curling up more comfortably into the corner of his sofa.

"Sorry you're stuck with me," Kame says with an apologetic lift of his shoulders, because the kid really wouldn't have to do this and probably wants to get some work done tonight, too.

"That's fine." Yuuya smiles, holding Kame's eyes with the sort of self-assurance that comes from being a professional in a high-class environment who would know how to leave if he wanted to. "You're interesting."

Kame laughs a little, and wonders if he's actually feeling flattered. "I'm glad you approve."

Tilting his glass to get to the rest of the drink under the remains of light green foam, Yuuya says nothing to that, just shoots him a lingering look over the rim. Instead he says, "I had this old friend once who called me Kitty-chan," and there's a reminiscent blink, but he waits to see Kame is interested before he explains. "The first time I was at his house alone, I ate the tuna sashimi he'd bought for the cats, not the kind meant for us." He's smiling, to himself more than at Kame.

Kame guesses what sort of friend it was. But Yuuya's expression stays fond. "I take it you didn't get sick from the stuff," Kame hazards.

"Oh no, it was perfectly good, lots of people eat it, they were just very fussy Persians, and _he_ only ate the most expensive kind and I didn't know any different back then. He thought it was really funny." Yuuya gives a little laugh. "I guess it was. Living with him was pretty educational. That wouldn't happen to me now." He flicks his straw against the side of the glass, contemplative. Around them, the lounge is buzzing now, glasses clinking loudly at the bar where the bartender can hardly keep up.

"No fighting the Persians over their fish?"

"No," Yuuya states confidently. "I'd taste the difference."

"Really?" Kame isn't sure he would, but then, he likes all kinds.

Yuuya nods. "I'd offer to try some blind from the kitchen – they have various types. But I don't want to get you to buy me food under false pretenses." His lips curve up slowly as he waits for Kame's reaction.

Kame can enjoy the harmless sort of flirting since it's obvious that Yuuya is enjoying it, too, and there's no urgency behind it. It's simply nice; his paranoia about coming here seems almost funny now, when they're getting on so well together. He wouldn't even mind treating Yuuya, but then there's the question of who'd be setting up false expectations. "Can I buy you another drink then?" he asks instead.

He manages to flag down a fast-moving waiter; Yuuya ask for an orange something-or-other, and Kame looks at him in question when he specifies, "The original version, please."

It comes in a very tall glass, and Yuuya informs him this one is catching on as an upgraded version with added rum, which to Yuuya defeats the point. "A decent wine, now that's different, it can round off a meal nicely," he says. "But if you add rum to this, you don't even taste it."

Kame agrees. "I prefer my spirits neat. Not rum," he concedes, "but I like a good whisky."

Yuuya is smiling again. "I noticed," he says, in a voice that says he notices all kinds of things, and there's another one of those looks, full of subtle attention. He has to admire Yuuya's skill a little.

But there's nothing he wants to say about that, so he continues, "And you lose too much of the taste if you dilute it with things. Though I take ice sometimes."

Yuuya nods agreement, but tells him that many guys who drink it mix it up with something because they find it too rough or too strong or too something else.

"I don't drink _much_ ," Kame insists, laughing, before he can get a reputation as the local hard man with, quite possibly, a drinking problem.

He lifts his wine glass and empties the last drops, then laughs more when he realizes that this didn't give the right impression. Yuuya's smile is amused and a little warm.

"No, really," Kame adds, but fair enough.

Yuuya is already looking around for the waiter. It turns out a greater challenge this time, maybe because a large and lively group in the Chrysanthemum corner is drawing the resources.

"Would you like a whisky now?" Yuuya asks after the second aborted wave. "I'll get you one at the bar."

"Thank you," Kame says. "Not a whisky, but I'd have another glass of wine."

He watches Yuuya leave, walking slow and assured between the busy tables, exchanging hellos here and there with patrons and colleagues alike.

Kame leans back, holding on to his glass, and he deflects a questioning glance by the Korean – but easily, like everything about tonight.

He won't stay much longer. He feels good about Sunday, too… for a moment he lets the thoughts play; Tatsuya's familiar rhythm, his pale skin when his dark shirt opens… but that's not for now, now is for socializing.

He has an easy look around; Tsukada has disappeared but Nakamaru is still downstairs, abandoned by all escorts but talking intently with the stylish Toudai professor. Kame's heard they golf together, too.

Yuuya is still leaning against the bar, fiddling with his fingers by now, and when Kame lets his gaze wander on he meets interest in Tadayoshi's face, and a tall, long-haired escort checking him out quite noticeably, and fine, he could probably play this better.

Better to let them see he's not truly sitting alone, let them see he's taken even when he's really not, and he turns in his seat towards Yuuya and his wine hunt, puts a smile on to send his way, and there's Jin.

No. Oh no.

He almost says it; feels the words sharp and hot in his mouth, and then he stops because what the— he was past it. _Past_ it.

Jin has reached the bar, deceptively elegant, like he's _easy_ to— and Kame blinks; it doesn't have to mean… it doesn't have to be anything. He can sit here, and wait for his wine, and Jin can stay over there, and try to find some client, and Kame can just… stay here, sit here, until the blow to his gut has trembled flat, evened out into numbness.

Just sit here; just drink his wine. Just not pay attention to Jin, and Jin is smiling in a way Kame has never seen before, like he means it, and he says something inane and props himself up on the bar like no proper escort ever would, and pokes Yuuya in the side.

Kame doesn't hear Yuuya squeak; knows that he can't because the room is busy and noisy and Yuuya knows how to conduct himself even if he squirms around and Jin is laughing now, but it doesn't matter. Jin's ridiculous smile doesn't matter. Kame's got it together. The bartender will… surely there'll be a glass of wine and Yuuya will come back and they'll drink up and Kame will leave, leave Jin to try his luck with some other guy and he'll be safe and private in the cool back of a taxi, out of here.

He's got it together, there in his seat, right until the smile vanishes from Jin's face, which should be good, should be _less_ unsettling, except Jin's eyes are suddenly on him with all their recrimination and self-inflicted wariness, and Kame knows what they've been talking about, and then it's over.

One second he knows exactly what is going to happen and the next he doesn't, the next he's standing and moving politely around tables and unsteadily on the inside, but the one thing he knows _won't_ happen is Jin talking to Yuuya behind his back about him, telling _stories_.

And Jin has shut up. At least that's something.

It was such a pleasant evening, with Tanaka, with Yuuya, so nice and relaxed, and Kame doesn't know what makes him angrier, the way Jin's face closes when he approaches or the sense of something spoiled.

But when his eyes skim Yuuya, the boy looks at him happy as always, and that's all right; why _should_ Yuuya believe anything Jin might—

"Jin," Kame says in a warm voice, because he knows his manners, and if Jin wants to make himself interesting to Yuuya by casting doubt on that, Kame can prove him wrong right here. "I thought you wouldn't show up tonight at all."

The pause stretches, but it's not Kame's fault. He doesn't have to help Jin out, doesn't have to help him fumble his way towards an answer behind that blank stare.

"I just got in," Jin says eventually, about as bright as expected. Really, where _he_ gets off trying to give Yuuya advice, Kame can't fathom, because there's none of that perpetual glumness in Yuuya's face, none of that awkwardness when he turns a warm smile on Kame.

"I'm sorry your wine is taking so long," he says with a nod towards the harassed bartenders. "It gets a bit slow on Fridays and one of the guys is sick."

"That's perfectly all right," Kame says. "I'm in no hurry."

And he isn't, he's just decided that. Why should he be? There's no need for him to run away, he is welcome here; even escorts who know he won't engage them for more like to spend time with him. Nobody has a problem with him except Jin, and if Jin insists on standing here with his eyes wide between Kame and Yuuya, as if he's held in place by something, by Kame… well, that's unexpected, and unfortunate, but Kame's got no reason to be intimidated and he certainly isn't going to leave Jin free to ruin the nice mood between him and Yuuya any more than he's already tried.

"Slow night?" he prompts pleasantly. "Not too busy?" Watches Jin's eyes dart around the club quickly, briefly, two entertainingly frantic blinks before he's staring dumb into space between them again, lips parted… and now Kame can't stop watching Jin's mouth while he waits for the answer, can't stop remembering heat and sweat and resistance, and that desperate little sound Jin made…

But no, he didn't mean it like that, _he_ isn't desperate. His intimate plans are settled and he has a date with Tatsuya to look forward to.

"It's all right, don't worry about it," he waves it off, throws Yuuya a smile. Jin can remove himself and try to score elsewhere, hang around the lounge aimlessly and hope to lure in some client who likes them sullen and tongue-tied. "Yuuya and I were having a very nice chat."

Jin turns his head towards Yuuya, fast, takes a breath, and Kame stiffens. Then Jin says nothing. Good. He's already said too much for one night.

"About fish!" Yuuya says next to Kame, like from far away. "And kitties." But the smile in his voice feels good even at a distance, the truth right there for Jin, that Yuuya appreciates his company.

Jin opens his mouth, closes it. Opens it. "I'm… not busy."

Obviously. Hardly a surprise. Neither is the way Jin's lips are an unwelcome distraction, that's just sense memory flashing through Kame's body.

"I didn't know you were waiting!" Yuuya says, like it's a happy revelation. "I could have told you when Jin-senpai was supposed to be back!"

"I wasn't waiting," Kame says. But Jin… Jin is offering. Kame can't read it any other way, the way he's just standing there and keeping his eyes passive and averted, standing there for Kame to look him up and down from the rich dark fall of hair around his face to the slim hips in soft black trousers, and up again. And it's… intriguing. "Not as such." But then he stops taking in Jin's gleaming lips, finds Yuuya watching them relaxed but attentive, with his hips leaning into the bar and one of his pleasant smiles for Kame.

"But aren't you glad you stayed longer after all." Yuuya sounds pleased, encouraging almost, and the flirty little hint at the end isn't tasteless at all. It speaks well of Yuuya that he's trying to support his bumbling colleague.

"I was hardly suffering," Kame says, returning the smile, because there is no reason for Yuuya to think he's a second choice to _that_ ; but then he realizes it might sound like a dismissal and adds, "Not that I mean the evening is over."

A shift from Jin, movement… or not, because when Kame looks at him there's no change, only Jin's blankness and his eyes coming back from Yuuya and meeting Kame's, briefly, and then down again, taking any challenge out of it. Good.

"Oh, it's fine," Yuuya reassures him, "I understand." He shoots Jin a glance that carries a hint of congratulation and Kame doesn't even need to look, he can almost _feel_ Jin freeze rigid.

"I am enjoying your company very much," Kame insists, because the last thing he wants is to trade in Yuuya's engaging presence for being left alone with the mute amateur.

Yuuya looks delighted. "And I yours." He lets his smile deepen just so. "And I'd look forward to any other—"

And stops and blinks at Jin, and Kame only catches the last bit of a flash of something, something which leaves puzzlement, some concentration on Yuuya's face, and if Jin's got something to say, maybe he should be made to say it out loud.

"Something the matter, Jin?" he asks, quite politely.

Another careful stillness, and that timid eye contact; not without appeal, but Kame is waiting for an answer here. He'll pin Jin down for it if he has to.

"No," Jin says, then drags up some manners from somewhere, maybe because even he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of a junior colleague. "No, of course not, Kamenashi-san."

"I do hope you're not taking it personally…" Maybe he does; maybe that's why he always looks so glum. Maybe Kame should enlighten him that nobody wants to fuck the ones with attitude, and few people want the hassle of learning how to handle him.

"Of course not," Jin says again, ever flatter, still no grasp on seduction. Only thing he has a grasp on is looking… like that. Like you shouldn't make yourself wait any longer before prying those lips apart, getting him out of those clothes and naked in front of you where he belongs.

Kame waits for it to pass. Because he had plans, and he's not ruled by nonsensical impulses, not tonight. Even if Jin is holding his eyes now, for longer than Kame expected, and they're dark with memory, responses and images that… maybe.

He's already had the hassle. Learned what it takes.

"I could just forget about the wine order…" Yuuya, cheerful and forgiving, professional about this in ways Jin can only dream of.

And considerate, making it easy for him because yes, this is the most straightforward solution. Jin will go with him and it will put an end to the whispering; Jin's going to be _glad_ because who else is lining up for the task, and if he isn't, it'll hardly be Kame's fault no matter what Jin might say…

"Depends on Jin," he says to Yuuya, a little bit bashful, and then fixes Jin with a look again.

Who stares, unblinking and unmoving, for heavy seconds before he says, "I'm free."

Kame ignores the sudden rush of blood. Ignores he's getting hard, because now that… that'll be taken care of. Just waits, because that's not how it goes around here, not how it goes with _him_.

"I would be glad to accompany you upstairs, Kamenashi-san." It even comes with a halfway engaged expression.

Kame nods; that's better. Maybe Yuuya is having a good influence on him. He smiles an apology at Yuuya, shrugs a little awkwardly.

"No reason for worry, Kamenashi-san," Yuuya says, and laughs a little. "It doesn't always work out! I enjoyed talking to you a great deal."

"I'm glad you did; so did I."

Jin says nothing; the good example only lasted so long, apparently, and why Yuuya even seems to like him…

He stops that thought, he doesn't need to know. Maybe Jin actually develops the ability to speak, magically, behind the scenes, and he sure seemed a bit more lively when he came and nearly hugged Yuuya for all to see, inappropriate though that—

"I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening," Yuuya tells them, bright with encouragement as he gets ready to leave them to their business, making even that smooth.

"I hope your evening works out to your satisfaction, too," Kame says sincerely, bows a little when Yuuya does.

"I'm sure I will find some company _almost_ as interesting as yours, somewhere around here," Yuuya says with a good-natured dip of his head, and a wink at Jin, and Jin is taking a step back, like it's all settled and he's in a hurry when Kame is just thinking that it's really unfair—

"Yuuya," he says, and Yuuya halts again, eyebrows drawn up in friendly curiosity. "I just wondered…" Wonder is right; he hasn't thought it through, has never felt the need to think anything like it through, might blush if he did. But it's so pleasant with Yuuya, so easy, and his sunny presence outbalancing, correcting… it might be worth a thought. A try. "Would you perhaps like to join us?"

Yuuya's eyes widen a little in surprise. He stands still where he is, confidently elegant while he considers, intrigued.

His gaze flickers towards Jin, who looks even less helpful than usual, but it figures, Jin's probably never been invited along to anything. Yuuya has more manners than to let that distract him, though, and looks back at Kame with a charming little smile. "If it's all right," he says, with just a hint of a question.

"It would be a pleasure," Kame says sincerely, because of course it's all right, Kame wouldn't have suggested it if it weren't. New, and might take some adjusting, but… yes, this could work quite well. Yuuya's face seems alight with possibility; his enthusiasm infectious. And Jin, hot and promising even with his urgent eyes, even with that familiar stiffness settling in. "You won't abandon us now, Jin, will you?" he asks, waiting for Jin to meet his eyes, and then Jin does, and shakes his head, and then it's done. Kame nods. "Very good."

There's no need to stay in the lounge any longer; he and Yuuya have had their drinks and Jin has indicated he's available, may well be glad for a date he got within ten minutes of arriving.

Kame smiles at Yuuya, and as if he's read his mind, Yuuya says, "Should I get us a key?"

"Please," Kame says, and adds, "Pick a nice room, something you like." Yuuya bows and waits another beat, gives Kame a chance to remember. "Three hours," Kame says, is rewarded with a beaming nod, and then Yuuya excuses himself and walks along the polished bar towards the concierge desk.

Kame turns towards Jin, only to find him looking after Yuuya with dark eyes. "This is going to be fun," he observes leisurely. He gives Jin a few seconds to work on his attitude. Then he adds, "Don't you think?"

The dark look meets Kame's, and Jin is breathtaking even when he's like this, withdrawn and unyielding, and they'll see how much of that is going to stick when Kame doesn't have to do it alone, how withdrawn he can be when… the image makes Kame swallow hard so he doesn't embarrass himself with a sound.

Eventually Jin produces a nod, manages, "Yes." Kame looks at him until he lowers his eyes again.

It's fine. He knows he's not taking Jin for his conversational spirit, and Jin knows it, too.


	14. Chapter 14

### Friday 03 October

"This is going to be such fun," Yuuya says when the elevator stops. He sneaks over a glance that goes well with the statement, like he's quite eager to find out what Kame looks like under his clothes. It flicks on to Jin with the same interest, and Kame smiles to himself. It's nice to know they're on the same wavelength.

He had almost forgotten how good it can be to have an eager and lively partner. He gestures for Yuuya to lead the way; he hasn't been to room three before. Hasn't done other things before, and he tries not to let his mind run away with them, intends to take it one step at a time.

Once out of the elevator, Yuuya takes an immediate left – a corner room, which makes sense given the number; it'll be one of the superior rooms with wide windows down both walls.

Yuuya stops outside the door, key held out subtly in case Kame considers it his prerogative, but Kame just nods. Jin is hanging around behind them, wordless and morose. Kame steps aside when the door opens, directs Yuuya and Jin in first.

It's pretty nice; large windows and a generous bar, two leather couches and a wide arm chair in the far corner where you can sit and chat, if you need the warm-up.  Kame is pretty sure they don't. They stop in the middle and Yuuya takes in the room with a little bit of pleasure, but without pretending he's never been in one of these before.

Jin looks blank and unimpressed, as always; Kame watches him a bit longer because that's part of what Jin's here for, for being looked at, and later for other things that won't leave him quite so— There's a snap through Jin, sudden alertness.

Music.

Yuuya is by the cabinet with the small and tasteful stereo, where CD selections stand next to half a row of more or less erotic DVDs behind a demure little door. He's put on something instrumental Kame doesn't recognize, full of soft bass and slow Latin beats, and shoots Kame a conspiratorial smile.

"Do you like that? It's one of my favourites."

Kame nods easily. "Good choice," he says, and since there are three of them here and one isn't playing his part, the part he gets paid for, he turns back to Jin, whose statue-like ineptitude is even more noticeable when there's a seductive rhythm enveloping them all. "Don't you think so, Jin?"

"Yes," Jin says. "Good."

Kame waits, but there's nothing more. Just silence and awkward stiffness. But it's fine, they'll have that stripped off him in no time.

"Kamenashi-san..." And that's Yuuya, who has moved back towards them, all grace and good humour. He steps closer than before; Kame can smell his aftershave, a blend of citrus and herbs. "You must be warm."

He reaches out slowly, slow enough for Kame to stop him, until his fingertips brush Kame's neck, a light and confident touch that reminds him of when Tatsuya does this for him, and then Yuuya slips down to his tie, and why not, it's fast but Kame has no problem with fast and he lifts his chin just a little to make it—

"I'll do that." Jin, sounding harsh and urgent, and Yuuya's hands drop uncertainly, his eyes darting to Jin who has come _alive_ , is moving, into Kame's space. He gives Yuuya a skewed smile before he takes his place and lifts his hands. They're trembling, but at least he's doing something, for once.

Is being careful about it, not rushing or fumbling, and quiet; so quiet. Kame has to watch Jin's chest to see the slow, tense breath in, and then he watches Jin's face again, that mouth up close, Jin's focused frown, and Kame can't _wait_ for Jin to look up when he's this dutiful.

The tie sliding off feels like a slow burning tease. Then Jin breathes, raises his head, and Kame stares back and lets him see all his anticipation.

Jin touches his collar, the first button; waits. Good of him, Kame thinks, he's learning, and stops Jin with a hand over his; stops Jin all over. "I think that's enough for now."

Hard to say what Yuuya made of being overruled like that; when Kame glances towards him, he looks his normal cheerful self, like he enjoyed watching them. Maybe he's used to Jin's strange moods. His glances towards Jin certainly carry no animosity, and Kame is sure that if he asked Yuuya to remove Jin's tie, he'd be delighted.

He thinks he will.

But first, he steps away, to the bar, and pours himself a splash of whisky. When he asks who else would like a drink Yuuya, predictably, goes for orange juice. Jin chooses orange juice, too, and Yuuya picks up both their glasses and takes one over to Jin. It earns him a faint smile.

Kame gives them a moment to sip their drinks and remains silent when Jin, the only one still in a full suit, loses his jacket. Then, nudging the single armchair to face into the room, he takes a seat, and says, "Yuuya, I think Jin is warm, too."

Yuuya looks pleased at the prompt; and if he glances at Jin in brief enquiry, well, Kame is not unreasonable, these things work better with some basic communication. Except Jin, looking warm like Hokkaido in winter, takes his own sweet time to show any sort of co-operation. Then it's a brief nod, hardly worth waiting for, and maybe next time they won't.

Yuuya sways a little with the music as he undoes the knot on Jin's tie; easy touches of hips and legs which could deepen the mood if there were any sort of response. He stretches a little to whisper something to Jin, who nods again, a bit less tardy this time but just as tight, and then Yuuya's smile fades softly when he reaches up to brush their lips together.

It's brief, barely more than a tease before Yuuya comes down again, shoots Kame a look with his eyes sparkling, his face nearly touching Jin's. Kame nods obligingly, isn't going to think any further about how the slow gentleness is making his hands itch. He's paying for a show and Yuuya is right to want to give him one, and it's not like he's getting much support from Jin. It's up to Kame to encourage him.

Yuuya seems encouraged enough, and the next kiss is longer and a bit more intent, and, all right, Jin is finally unfreezing, lips moving slow and careful, shy, like they have any innocence left. When Yuuya draws him into an embrace, all the while mindful of Kame's view, Jin goes as far as putting a hand on Yuuya's hip, and his eyes close fast when Yuuya leaves a light trail of touch along his cheek, and down. Sensitive neck, Kame notes.

Yuuya has stepped in more, his hips closer to Jin's now, and there's a little wiggle to a soft pulse of drums and Jin... responds, timidly, and Kame watches him drop his head and— is that a smile? Yuuya gives a small happy shiver as Jin nuzzles his way up below his ear, whispers something, dark hair falling over hazel; and Yuuya nods, then remembers Kame and bends his neck back for the picture; a pretty picture, Yuuya yielding and swept back in the circle of Jin's arms, but it isn't one Kame is desperate to see.

Still, he gives Yuuya an approving look because at least he's trying, trying to engage Kame when Jin wants to shut him out. Kame wants him to know he appreciates it, particularly when Yuuya's initiative will be so helpful throughout. If Jin wants nothing to do with Kame that's fine for now, Kame and Yuuya can handle this, handle Jin, between them.

Kame stops fondling his glass, leans into the side of the armchair. "I..." And swallows back the urge to clear his throat, but Yuuya is looking at him readily, attentive and willing, and there's no reason not to say what he wants. "You could show me a bit more," he says, his face warming despite himself. "You could take his shirt off."

It prompts no change in Yuuya or his professional enthusiasm, but it looks different already when he runs his hands up Jin's arms and gets to work on Jin's shirt. When the front is done, Jin obediently bends up his arms between them for Yuuya to undo the cuffs, and then there's a firm tug as Yuuya pushes the shirt off his shoulders. Kame draws in a breath, and spreads his legs a bit against the surge of heat that comes from seeing Jin handled with such confidence.

He should have done that last time, instead of making Jin strip.

Jin still isn't helping, but at least he's following instructions and Yuuya is making up for it, drawing the fabric of a sleeve down Jin's arm in a way that's almost gentle, almost unfitting for their purpose; but Jin looks so fascinating being slowly revealed like this, Kame can hardly rush Yuuya on, can hardly tell him to hurry when he walks slowly around Jin, stripping off the shirt with sensual touches.

"He looks good, doesn't he?" Kame asks, watching over the rim of his whisky.

Yuuya seems to think for a second, but then he looks sideways at Kame with a knowing tilt of his head, a smile. "Yes, he does." He lays a hand on Jin's naked back, bunched up fabric in the other, and leaves a kiss on Jin's shoulderblade, lets his hand run up and around, smooth with skill and music.

Naturally, it takes Jin a moment to conclude it might be desirable to participate. When he does, it's an awkward reach for Yuuya's hips, because Yuuya has stepped close enough to touch, neat shirt and tie against Jin's skin, and it doesn't even jar the image that Yuuya is shorter, not with the way Jin's hands fall by his sides when Yuuya slides an open palm over his stomach, or when Yuuya takes charge of his other arm to get the shirt all the way off.

"He feels good, too, doesn't he?"

Yuuya drops the shirt to the ground; another smile; another kiss. "He feels really good," and there might be a blush, or maybe that's for show, but Kame can see Jin swallow. He knows how good Jin can feel, too.

Then Jin tilts his head sideways, away from Kame, and it opens up his neck, looks beautiful and inviting, but the way Jin's eyes are averted isn't, the way that's just _convenient_ for Jin isn't, and... Yuuya, a kiss, and a whisper, and Kame doesn't like whispers but he watches Jin's tension and his nod, one after the other, and when Yuuya moves next, hands playing idly on Jin's naked chest, there's momentum to go with it, a subtle little turn and Jin is in plain view and open before him and that... that's better.

Yuuya checks with Kame over Jin's shoulder, and Kame nods. Much better.

He sinks back a little, watching Yuuya's fingers trail across Jin's skin, no whispers now and no wavering, circling a nipple before moving to the other, dipping into the belly button and trailing up to the hollow at the throat again... Kame's fingers tingling with the memory of smooth warmth, and he leans back further in the arm chair, brings the glass to his mouth again and— meets Jin's eyes.

Not even a pretense of abandonment, no sign of getting with the program, Kame is being _watched_. And maybe there's no challenge, maybe there's no real focus but those eyes are on him nonetheless, dark and wary as usual.

Yuuya's fingers move lower, lower still, are teasing at the waistband of Jin's pants and Kame thinks Jin's breath stops but the eyes don't waver, and...

...Kame doesn't like this. And he should be the one touching there, he knows just how to touch to get the results he wants.

He sets his glass on the side table and rises. Hasn't noticed he's fast until he takes in the fact that both Jin and Yuuya have stopped moving, are watching him. There's a smile on Yuuya's face as he disengages from Jin to make room for him.

Jin swallows, once; doesn't take his eyes off Kame for a moment; but when he takes a breath he looks almost welcoming, for Jin, and whatever the reason, it's an improvement.

Not that Jin matters much; he and Jin know where they stand with each other. Yuuya is the one who is trying so hard, who is keeping things professional and doesn't need Kame to mess that up for him any more than he needs Jin's antics. Yuuya is the one who likes Kame and is sophisticated enough to appreciate an interesting new idea. Kame smiles at him again, just for good measure.

And Yuuya steps back, and Kame's hands are on Jin, and there it is, the warm and the smooth and the soft and the shiver underneath it all. He could reach down now, and in thirty messy seconds he'd have him... but no. Not this time. It's enough to know.

Instead, he runs both hands over Jin's shoulders, pulls him down and closes in for a kiss, Jin's lips opening obediently under his. He lets his hands wander down, and down, skimming the sharp hipbones and... there's the belt, and a quick pull sorts that.

"Yuuya," he says, and Yuuya is right there, waiting for whatever Kame might want.

Kame doesn't know what he wants. What does he want with Yuuya? Professionalism, that's what. But this... this isn't about that, and—

"I'm feeling a little warm, too," Yuuya says, not intruding, just helping out, presenting options and sounding good-humoured about it, warm like the music and yes, good point.

Kame throws him a friendly glance while he keeps his hands on Jin. "We really should do something about that."

Yuuya is attractive, there can be no doubt about that, and the self-confidence magnifies that exponentially. "Would you like me to remove some clothes?" he says to Kame. "Or would you like to do it?"

Kame considers. "Jin can take off your shirt. Then you can take off his pants."

He stands by while Jin strips the shirt off Yuuya, artless and functional, looking vaguely apologetic about it.

Half-naked, Yuuya still moves as though he were dressed for a formal dinner, without the slightest self-consciousness. It reminds Kame of Tatsuya again. A complete difference from Jin's hangdog attitude if he's so much as asked to take off his tie.

Kame indicates his approval and makes sure his glances linger on Yuuya for a while; it's not that he doesn't appreciate his looks, only that he has something else on his mind and—

Yes; Yuuya hasn't forgotten. Yuuya doesn't forget, there's none of the embarrassment of having to ask for things twice. He shoots Kame a quick smile and then he's in front of Jin, at just enough of an angle that Kame can observe well, and there's a quick exchange of glances, too fast for Kame to put a stop to, and Yuuya picks up where Kame left off.

The belt slides through the loops, and Yuuya lets the end trail leisurely over the carpet before he drops it altogether. Next is the button, and he steps closer to Jin, a soft kiss on his shoulder to mask any fumbling, and when Yuuya steps back again there's the subtle sound of a zipper to go with it.

Yuuya goes down with it, on his knees, and there's a vague fumbling movement of Jin's hands, touching shoulders, hair, then not touching at all, hands dangling by his sides as Yuuya slides down pants and underwear in one, and Jin doesn't wait to be told, just steps out of it all when the time comes, impassive.

If you ignore the negativity, he's gorgeous.

He isn't hard. He doesn't have to be, not for this, not for... no. Not for anything that might happen next. Kame thinks he has some idea of how this might go. It's time Yuuya got a piece of the action, anyway.

"Now you," he says, encouraging. If he leaves it to Jin, it might take half a brooding eternity.

Yuuya flashes him a knowing grin; slides his hand down his belly and inside his pants until there can be no doubt what the fingers are touching, takes a deep, teasing breath, and uses the other hand to peel the layers of clothing away. He pulls once at his erection, still faint, and then lifts his hand to let Kame see while the fabric drops softly to the floor.

Kame lets his gaze wander appreciatively down his body, and back up. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, too."

"I am, Kamenashi-san. I really am." It seems genuine the way no amateur acting ever could, and the thought warms him.

"This..." – he nods a bit shyly, he's not used to referring to people's hard-ons directly – "this could be just what we need."

Yuuya gives him a questioning look, drops a hand towards it. "You want me to—"

"No," Kame says. "We can do better than that." Jin looks fit to contribute something here, looks like he should have something to do besides stare blankly ahead. "Jin can help you." A good thing Kame knows just how. "He's very good with his mouth."

Nothing, from Jin; nothing at all but that's hardly surprising, and Kame turns and smiles at—

Yuuya is blinking, eyes flickering from Jin's face to Kame's just in time, and then _back_ , and what the hell is this?

Jin is hopeless, so Kame waits for Yuuya, for him to catch on that there's a client here, waiting. "Is there a problem?"

Yuuya remembers to look at Kame, remembers to smile, at least he doesn't take as long, but if Kame ends up with another one like... Jin's attitude can't be contagious, can it? It's not some outrageous proposition, it's nothing Kame will even feel coy about.

He catches movement of Jin's head out of the corner of his eye, an awkward smile when he checks, and god, if Yuuya starts going to Jin for directions they might as well not bother.

"Of course not," Yuuya says, but his eyes are shifting to Jin again, as if Jin is calling the shots when Yuuya should know better, too, should be working with Kame here.

And it had been going so well, Yuuya's cheerful willingness such a restful change from the endless resentment, the judging of every request Kame makes.

"Are you really _sure_ now," Kame says pointedly, ignores the not even subtle nod from Jin he catches out of the corner his eye. "I wouldn't like to inconvenience you."

But Yuuya's already turned back to Kame, smile bright now and steady, as he repeats, "Of course there's no problem, Kamenashi-san."

All right. "I'm glad to hear it," Kame says, and if this means they're back on the same page, he really is; he doesn't want Yuuya to be uncomfortable because Yuuya is smoother than that, deserves better, whereas Jin... doesn't really, but Kame turns to him anyway. "Jin?" He doesn't bother keeping the sharpness out of his voice. Jin can stop gesticulating and making faces, use speech like a sentient being.

Jin has that wary look back, and just as well that it suits him, with the dark eyes and the lips already parted, and why would Yuuya even hesitate...

"There's no problem," Jin says quietly; inches forward as if to prove it but stops, hands just rising towards Yuuya. Stops and looks sideways, _asks_ , good, and Kame nods slowly, curious to see what it will do, and Jin places careful hands on Yuuya's chest, light touch trailing down to a flat and smooth stomach, and then Jin kneels.

Yuuya helps him, holding himself steady, and for once Jin is fast, opening his mouth and taking him inside.

It's a rush just to see, clear and undiluted and without being distracted by the touch itself. Jin's hair falling forward, his head moving rhythmically, and the cock that's getting hard fast, shining wet whenever Jin's mouth pulls back, and Kame reaches to adjust himself in his pants and then leaves his hand there, nothing much, just a bit of pressure. Soon. Jin can take care of that soon, too, he'll feel even better after some warm-up, slicked up and ready and knowing what he's good for.

Yuuya gives a little gasp, a small thrust of the hips, instinctive and natural. He meets Kame's eyes, then looks down bashfully. That strange hesitation... But perhaps he's feeling underappreciated – Kame admits he gets distracted by the attractions of Jin's body. It just takes him a step, and he slides a hand up Yuuya's arm, down his front, and Yuuya smiles at him.

Kame moves in closer, lets his gaze follow his hand, a flutter of breath he can feel under his palm. Yuuya leans a bit when they're touching, welcoming and soft, and the little turn that presses his hip against Kame's hard-on is just right, makes him stroke Yuuya's back with his other hand, but what he's looking at is Jin's mouth and Jin's cheeks hollowing around a full erection; and Jin's closed eyes, one frown line between them which Kame smoothes over, easy and without distracting Jin from his work, before he lets his fingers touch Jin's lips.

"Slow down," he says, feels Jin falter under his touch and then... slow, yes, pulling back, all tension and restraint, and good, there's something about Jin not taking forever to get with an order. "We're in no rush." He allows himself an unhurried little grind, too, and runs his other hand up to the nape of Yuuya's neck, asking him, "If that's all right with you."

Yuuya's smile is easy, coming with a soft little pant. "Fine," he says, pressing back cautiously against Kame's shoulder. "That's fine by me."

They're finding a soft rhythm now, Jin taking Yuuya in to the slow beats of the music, Kame's hips pushing just in sync with the feel of Yuuya's cock sliding past those lips, past Kame's fingertips, and Yuuya the steady centre, easy thrusts forward meeting Jin, soft moves back out providing pressure for Kame.

Then Yuuya turns his head and his lips are parted, a pink, quick flick of his tongue and an intent look at Kame's mouth and... yes, they can do that. Kame leans in and licks his way around Yuuya's lips once before dipping his tongue inside, and Yuuya makes a happy little sound, opens up and sinks against Kame more heavily without ever missing a beat in his rhythm, and Kame is getting warmer in his clothes.

Yuuya feels nice, very nice, wet touches soft and skilful, but Kame can't see Jin any more and he closes his eyes while he lets the kiss go on, listening for the sounds to accompany the sensation in his fingertips, and Yuuya gives another little moan and...

"What does it feel like?" Kame asks, breaking the kiss just a little. "Tell me what it feels like to fuck his mouth."

A tiny halt in the rhythm, then Yuuya laughs a little, or maybe it's another pant, and he thinks for a moment. "I'm really turned on now," he says in a low voice. "I like kissing you, too."

His lips remain parted, a clear invitation for Kame to take him up on that last statement, but that's not what Kame is interested in now.

"Have you had him before?" he asks idly, running his fingers slowly down Yuuya's spine when there is no reply. "Or did you wonder... did you want to try him out?"

Yuuya stares ahead without words for a moment, maybe gathering himself, understandable when Jin's on his knees in front of him, before he leans his head further into Kame's shoulder. "Usually people have _me_ like that," he says, blissful sigh turning into a flirty smile, and there's a little grind of his hips against Kame's erection. "Or try me out for other services."

Kame is sure that he performs them all well, but he won't be distracted. "Is this a nice treat, then? Is he doing it right?"

"It feels very good, Kamenashi-san," Yuuya says obligingly, if rather vaguely, closing his eyes prettily for a stroke or two.

"His mouth is hot, isn't it?" he asks more pointedly.

And thinks he sees movement of Jin's hands on Yuuya's hips but when he focuses nothing seems changed, nothing going on, just the soft fall of Jin's hair and the in and out of Yuuya's cock, slow as he told them to, and Yuuya says, "Yes, Kamenashi-san, it is."

"And he makes it wet enough?"

"Yes," Yuuya says, eyes flickering up to Kame's face before he sighs again. "Wet, and hot."

"Tell me how he's sucking you," Kame says, wants more than two words this time. "How do you like it, do you want to do him harder?"

Definitely movement, tiny little strokes of Jin's fumbling hands, and Kame wouldn't even have noticed if he hadn't been glancing down to see if Jin showed any reaction at all.

"He's sucking just like I like it," Yuuya says. "I like it when it's steady, I like getting it slow." Kame can recognize bland phrases when he hears them. "How do _you_ like it, Kamenashi-san?" Yuuya follows up, breath warm on Kame's neck, hips moving again against Kame's and this time it's intrusive, it's not appropriate.

"For now," he says, "I just like to watch. The two of you look excellent together. And watching him... like this... doesn't he look like he's meant for this?"

He's been looking out, he catches the movement, whatever Jin thinks he's doing, and he reaches out, stops it with a tight grasp around one wrist, and Jin flinches and stills entirely.

"He's beautiful," Yuuya says, faint in his ear because Kame is looking down and Jin looks caught and trapped and _hot_ , and Kame applies some pressure until he gets it and his lips slide back and off, naked and wet.

The drums are still pulsing, beckoning, weird when nobody stirs.

"What are you doing?" Kame asks sharply, sees Jin flinch again.

There's no answer.

"He doesn't need your help."

Yuuya goes tense against him, an awkward shift as he takes his own weight again, and great, trust Jin to mess them all up. Kame pats Yuuya on the shoulder and keeps his eyes on Jin, won't have him sneak in any funny nudges and glances when he thinks Kame isn't looking.

Then he remembers to let go of Jin's wrist, uncurls his fingers one by one, and watches as Jin lets his hand sink; watches some more as Jin is... thinking, Kame hopes, remembering Kame doesn't let him get away with things; is still watching when something slow and dark flickers through those wide eyes, and Jin draws his hands behind his back.

Kame breathes, slow against Yuuya's warm presence. He didn't ask for that, but he's inclined to be forgiving just this once.

Yuuya is quiet; warm and sweaty and... hard enough now, Kame just needs a minute to think, too, and not let the way Jin is looking up at him distract him forever, because Jin looks good no matter what you do with him and there will be other sights for Kame to appreciate... yes. Yes, like that.

And then Jin leans forward just a bit, so slowly it takes Kame a moment to see where it's going; _cautiously_ at least, but Kame doesn't need his interference and he doesn't need to be reminded of Yuuya's erection, either; not at all.

This time he reaches for Jin's hair. "You'd like that, wouldn't you."

Jin goes absolutely still; doesn't even blink, until the silence stretches and he licks his lips, quickly and not seductively, but it's not Kame's problem if he gets all flustered, Jin could have just stayed put.

"Only if you'd like me to." Jin's voice is a whisper.

"I think Yuuya's had enough of that now," Kame says, and he's ready for it; when Jin's eyes snap to Yuuya, he tightens his grip in Jin's hair and Jin stops that at once. "Isn't that right, Yuuya," Kame adds, and he knows better than to take his eyes off Jin for even a moment.

"I'm very happy to continue with something else," Yuuya says beside him, picking up the right cues just like a professional should. He starts moving against Kame a little again, not an unreasonable show of initiative, and Kame makes sure there's no harshness in it when he takes a small step away, lets go of Jin's hair at the same time.

"You may get up," he says to Jin. "For now." He walks and sits back in the arm chair before he directs them closer. He'll want to be comfortable.

Amazingly enough Jin doesn't dawdle, keeping pace with Yuuya – probably looking for another chance to engage in surreptitious little signs, but Kame is holding his eyes and not about to let him have his way.

At least he doesn't have to worry about Yuuya; at least one of the people he has engaged for the night is with him wholeheartedly, and dependable, stopping them now at just the right distance for a good view.

"Yuuya," Kame says easily, gaze fixed on Jin, "I'd like you to fuck him."

The darkness that flares in Jin's eyes then makes Kame put a quick hand on his own erection, press, and wait until he can breathe out without giving himself away. Though why he should be embarrassed, he doesn't know – he's _paying_ to get aroused and if someone makes it this easy...

He leans deeper into the chair and eases his grip, turns it into a light stroke, now that he _can_ without the risk of coming on the spot.

Jin seems to have stopped breathing.

"Yes, Kamenashi-san," Yuuya is saying, and from the corner of his vision Kame can see him moving from one foot to the other, perhaps awaiting further instructions.

"How do you want him?" Kame offers amiably.

There's a pause – presumably Yuuya is thinking it over, and Kame knows it's not an easy choice.

Jin is doing his statue impression again, staring blindly at or through Kame, and Kame picks up the whisky he left on the side table earlier and takes a tiny, pleasurable sip.

"Jin?" Yuuya's voice is husky, bare of sophistication. For a moment Kame wants to intervene, insist that Yuuya answer, but watching Jin blink, watching him swallow like there is no moisture in the world, more than makes up for the little digression.

"Hands and knees," Jin says, sounding much like Yuuya, and then he falls silent again.

Not good enough, and Jin should know that. "What?" Kame prompts. "I didn't hear you."

This time Jin just takes a breath. "I want to be on my hands and knees."

Kame exhales, makes sure he doesn't speed up the hand on himself, there are better plans for that, especially now.

"Where?" he asks, and his eyes drop just so.

"On the floor," Jin says, and Kame waits, lets Jin catch on he's making it too easy on himself. "On the floor in front of you, Kamenashi-san."

Kame nods. Waits.

"I want to get fucked on the floor. Please."

Yes, Kame thinks, that's how Jin should always voice his opinions, and then he nods again, sharper and more approving. "Yuuya, does that work for you?"

"Yes, Kamenashi-san," Yuuya says, and Jin is trying to hide away in that blankness but it's not working now, he's failing at that too.

"Good," Kame says; and it is, it is excellent, this will turn out to be very enjoyable. "Then he can suck me at the same time."

He thinks he can see Jin flinch, a tiny start before reaction stops altogether. Kame keeps watching; he shifts again in the chair to make himself more easily accessible, pulls his zipper all the way down and arranges things in a practical manner. He's already hard, and no wonder, but he can't wait to feel Jin's lips close around him...

Jin isn't moving. Kame nods, once, an unmistakable prompt, and Jin's lips close and part again and there's a light movement that goes through his body and... nothing happens.

"You don't like the idea?" Where he gets the right to be choosy, Kame doesn't know. "You think you just have to _sulk_ for what you want?" Not that it will work; not when every sullen moment makes you want to see him on his knees more badly. "Maybe you're hoping that Yuuya and I can adapt to your needs? I'm sure _Yuuya_ is flexible." But Kame is not, and particularly not when his paid entertainment is trying to manipulate him into it.

Particularly not when Kame can only imagine how that closed look will change between his legs, Jin taking them in, locked into a rhythm Yuuya and Kame set between them.

"No." It comes out hoarsely, urgent, but surprisingly categorical. Well, that's fine. And a step forward follows, and that's also good, Kame approves, and then Jin stops.

"Jin?"

Yuuya again, sounding lost, uncertain, and when Kame looks up to reassure him he shouldn't take Jin's maddening behaviour to heart Yuuya is... that's not right. That... doesn't look right, Yuuya is cheerful and professional, he was with Kame on this, he _likes_ Kame and he shouldn't look nervous, shouldn't look so _worried_... And when Yuuya turns his head his eyes still look lost, and it doesn't even help when he finds his smile again, quick and nervous, and steps closer quite smoothly, and what is going _on_?

"You know what," Kame says to Jin, "I think I've changed my mind."

A frozen, frightened stare, and Jin goes _down_ , fast, graceless, kneels too warm between Kame's legs, and the way he opens his mouth moist and pleading curls hot around Kame's sudden discomfort, messing with his head.

He tries to shake it off, insists, "No, let's do something else," he doesn't want weirdness.

But Jin shakes his head faintly, quickly, puts unsteady hands on his thighs, says, "No, this is okay," reaching for Kame's erection, and Kame retreats as much as the seat will let him. "This is good," Jin says, "no need for change. Please."

" _No_ ," Kame snaps, because how often does he have to say it for this... weirdness to end. And Jin has flinched but isn't _leaving_ , Kame has to push at him to get up and away, and Yuuya stands stiff where he has stopped, a hand on a flagging erection and a little frown between his eyes, a familiar look of wary concentration... and okay, maybe Kame lost it a little. And he doesn't get it, he doesn't know what happened, and he doesn't know what they are doing here any more. Whatever it is, it isn't working, it should be stopped.

"What would you like us to do, Kamenashi-san?"

Kame thinks while he hurriedly tidies himself up. Thinks rather fast, because he wants the boy to stop looking at him like that, he wants this situation to turn back into a normal, civilized transaction, into enjoyment, not some strange and imposing... _thing_ , when it had just been an idea and it had seemed fine until Jin...

"Yuuya," he says, and calls on years of acting skills to produce a smile that's bound to look genuine, "I would like you to leave."

No change in the boy, and Kame doesn't have to act to let some of his embarrassment shine through. "This is all a bit... new territory, you see. I'm very sorry for your inconvenience. Of course I'll pay for the hour."

Yuuya bows a little, an appreciative smile, but his gaze is flickering to Jin and he's showing no sign of getting dressed.

"It's probably better if I do things... the usual way," Kame says, searching for words that will work, will get the boy out of here, make the strangeness go away. "Slow down a bit. I guess I'm not ready for exciting new ventures yet." He lets the nervous laugh out, lets Yuuya feel that he's not the only confused one here.

He turns to Jin, who is just straightening up, and nobody told him to do that, that he could get off the floor but... okay, at least he's wiped that look of horror that threw Yuuya so much off his face. Jin looks stiff when he nods at Yuuya, hardly the sort of encouragement likely to get results, and nobody told him to do that either, but for now Kame ignores it. "Maybe we should start over, just the two of us. Right, Jin?"

"Yes, Kamenashi-san," Jin says immediately.

Kame smiles at Yuuya. "So that's all fine. Please, do get dressed." He watches as the boy picks up his clothes from where they dropped them, slips into them without bothering with the bathroom, or with pretending that he's not sneaking peeks at Jin for whatever guidance Jin might provide.

"Yes, start over," Kame repeats, and Jin agrees, and if his energetic nod is meant for Yuuya, Kame is willing to let it go. "Jin and I can just take it slow," he adds, "nothing like..." He doesn't know how to finish that sentence, not without accusing Jin of ruining everything, and that's not likely to get Yuuya out of here soon. He just gestures vaguely at the room, them, and feels silly.

Yuuya has finished with his pants and seems to be taking in this information with a generally calm interest that... definitely looks better than what there was before, and that's good, and Kame just goes on, "Very slow." That's what it'll take, to get any sort of mood back. "And you didn't have anywhere else to be tonight, right, Jin?"

Jin doesn't avoid his look; doesn't move at all. "No. I don't." And that's good, too, not to have time pressure, not to have any sort of pressure after this weird... whatever, and Kame nods.

"Shall we make it a rest, then?" he says, and Yuuya will be able to hear the good intentions in his voice even if Jin's stillness seems to freeze over; Yuuya will know that it's all good, because Yuuya is reasonable and not as impossible to please as Jin.

"I would like that very much, Kamenashi-san," Jin says, and he almost sounds like he means it, almost. If you don't look at him, and Yuuya doesn't, occupied with buttons.

And then Yuuya is fully dressed, has straightened his tie and is pulling his jacket on; and still he is lingering.

Well, Kame can be positive about this. "Yuuya," he says, "could you please let the concierge know that we'll require this room for longer than initially planned? I hope it won't be a problem."

Yuuya hesitates, and it's not Kame he's looking at.

But Jin, for once, is working with Kame, motioning to the door with a quick head movement, then adding, "Please, Yuuya, leave us," for more public consumption.

And that, at last, seems to do the trick. Yuuya bows quickly – to Jin more than to Kame, but right now Kame will take anything – and backs towards the door, slowing as he gets there, but Jin says no more and Kame gives him an encouraging smile, and the door opens, and closes, and they are alone.

~

Chapter 15 to follow 16/05/2011


	15. Chapter 15

### Friday 3 October

Alone... Kame takes a breath before he glances over, waiting for his body to settle. If Jin looks even faintly smug about this, or pleased...

Jin doesn't look pleased. He holds still under Kame's eyes where Kame left him by the armchair, naked shoulders drawn in. A flick of tongue over those lips that were so promising... he looks anxious, as if he understands what problems he's caused them, and that's something, at least.

Kame hardens his stare, because Jin's right to feel nervous and responsible, and they're not going to be in any doubt about it. He doesn't move; doesn't know where to because he's lost the plan, doesn't know where to start thanks to Jin's antics, and Jin had better be ready to make it up to him once Kame gets his footing back, just standing there all hot and stubborn won't—

A halting tension steals through Jin; and while Kame is looking he slowly drops his gaze, bows his head, kneels down.

And waits, tense and quiet; and Kame draws a constricted breath, feels his pulse beat fast because that... that was a good start.

He waits a moment, too; lets Jin lick his lips again, wonder; waits for the sudden flash of sweat to die down.

Then he nods, once. "Better." He doesn't want Jin to suck him now; not there; not this fast, because they've got time now. God, they have a lot of time now. But Kame approves of the general drift here, and if he's stuck with Jin for a full rest it's reassuring that Jin at least knows he's got some amends to make.

Looks almost willing to, like it won't take too much this time.

Kame takes a step, feeling tight in his clothes, and he takes another and Jin is breathing and kneeling and holding very, very still.

"And?" he asks when he's there, soft enough that Jin shouldn't flinch like this.

It brings Jin's eyes up, but they don't bother Kame now, tame and repentant as they are, and fast with wanting to please, oh yes, searching...

"Aren't you going to thank me? That was what you wanted, right?"

Something flares; a breath and a swallow but it's nothing like resistance, it's more delicious than that, Jin knowing Kame is right and hating it and keeping himself on a leash the way Kame normally has to.

"Thank you." He wears honesty well, when it's this humble. Looks naked in it.

"Don't like threesomes much, do you," Kame muses.

A much briefer struggle this time. "No." And when Kame raises an eyebrow, "No, Kamenashi-san," and again, flatly, "Thank you."

Kame nods. At least he didn't try to come up with some badly-acted lie.

"I would have enjoyed it," he says, lets the statement stand.

More with the lip-licking, random and unconscious. "I'm sorry."

"But you really know how to spoil a mood," Kame adds, because that sorry didn't quite sound sorry enough for what happened back there, all the confusion, with Yuuya doubting himself and Kame looking like he doesn't know what he's doing.

"I'm sorry." It comes with lowered eyes, and a bit more urgency. It'll do.

"Good." Kame puts his hand on Jin's shoulder. Jin's skin feels cool, a little sweaty under Kame's fingers as he lets them trail towards Jin's throat. "You can make it up to me."

Jin's eyes snap up, and stare; his nod takes a moment. "Yes," he says then. A pause as he considers, settles. "I'll make it up to you."

"You'll be good now," Kame pursues; and flushes at his own words but Jin nods more smoothly now, with more acceptance.

"Yes," he says. "I'll be good." He leans forward a little, almost nuzzling Kame's reviving erection through fabric, but this isn't what Kame has in mind, this is too easy. Let him work for it this time. He tightens his grip on Jin's neck, holds him off. It doesn't take much; Jin simply stills.

"What..." He clears his throat. "What would you like?"

Kame gives himself a moment; to think; to appreciate the picture. "Maybe we should do this differently," he says in the end, and Jin looks commendably attentive. "Maybe I'm tired of the way you keep sulking over the things I ask of you, maybe we should do what _you_ like." He's intrigued by the startled frown; this could become interesting. He smiles down at Jin, eases his touch until it is almost a caress. "So tell me what you want to do for me."

Jin is blinking in a sort of panicked understanding but what more can he expect, they wouldn't be here if he'd just tried to please Kame a little better, and now they can do it like this.

But he gets it together. "I want to make it up to you," he starts, with a whispered breath at the end that says even he knows that can't be all of it, and so Kame nods, looks on in encouragement. He's not in such a hurry if Jin needs the warm-up.

"I..." More thinking. "I'd like..."

"Don't be shy."

He touches Jin's face in time to feel his breath, skims a thumb lightly underneath his bottom lip. "I want to suck you," Jin tries, lips moving next to Kame's fingers, quite a temptation, but later; later, they have so much time.

Kame strokes on with his thumb a little but waits, doesn't move.

"I want to suck you hard," Jin corrects himself, "so you can fuck me," and Kame nods, looking forward to that; Jin can tell him again when he spreads his legs for him.

"Because I want you to fuck me," Jin says, getting firmer about it.

Kame smiles, and simply waits.

"I like it... on the floor," Jin says and swallows. "Or on the bed." He stops, looks vaguely expectant, as if he thinks there's a chance Kame will take him up on it anytime soon, when they still have hours.

"How do you like it?" Kame prompts.

"Hard," Jin says at once. "I want you to fuck me hard."

"Why do you want that?"

Jin takes a careful breath, and releases it slowly, and then it's just fact. "Because I deserve it. I deserve to be fucked hard."

Kame can't quarrel with that. "Why do you deserve it?"

"Because it shows me my place."

Kame slides his hand into Jin's hair, has to feel _something_ if he can't yank his pants down and fuck Jin's mouth right there. "And you like it?" he asks, and Jin's head bends back easily.

"Yes. I like it. I like when you shove your hard cock inside me _fast_ and—"

"What if I want to fuck you slow?" Kame interrupts, because Jin's settled into a groove and Kame's not interested in hearing him recite some porn track he's heard somewhere.

Jin blinks. "I... like any way you want to fuck me," he says slowly.

Better. _Hotter_ , for all its plainness, and Kame exhales slowly, finds an approving smile. He might fuck him hard or slow later, or both; they'll see about that. Right now there's more here, he can feel it. "What do you like about slow?"

"I... I like when I can feel... when I can really feel..." Jin falters, and it just makes Kame want more, makes him sure Jin shouldn't have time to think.

"Feel what? What do you want to feel?"

Jin swallows, looks unsteady. "I like to feel your cock moving slowly in and out of me."

"Why do you like that?" One step closer, and he can feel Jin's breath through his shirt, could feel Jin's naked skin if Kame's clothes weren't between them, and Jin leans back, has to feel Kame's quiet reminder before he remembers himself, lets Kame be as close as he wants to be.

"Because... because it's more intense when it's slow."

There's a little quiver in his voice and Kame doesn't waste a second. "What is intense?" He wants to _know_ , wants to hear it while Jin is pressed against him and feels him hard and ready, knows he'll get what he's asking for.

Jin's face is bright red and he swallows again, hard. "When your cock is... just at the entrance, when you push it open... slowly and—"

"And?" Kame's own voice sounds strangled, no wonder, with that image, but he's got control and he can hear Jin out, he wants to hear this.

"—pull back a bit before sliding it in really slow," Jin gulps a breath; blinks twice. "So I can really feel how long it is, and how thick."

That last bit came easier, sounds rehearsed again, and the fumbling creativity was better. Maybe they should go back to that, maybe they should _go_ with that...

"Let's try slow," Kame decides. "Really slow. You can show me how slow..." Feels it hit him with a rush, a vision of long legs sprawling and trembling, Jin's flushed face when he follows words with actions; and something hits Jin too, Kame can feel the tension in his fist, maybe Jin's not always so slow on the uptake. "Get yourself really _ready_ ," Kame breathes, and watches confirmation sink in dark and alluring.

The tension holds; it's a nice little moment. Then Jin says, "You want me to—"

Kame strokes Jin's mouth where his thumb is resting, shakes his head. " _You_ want to."

Jin struggles for… something, but then he just breathes, short and sharp. "Yes." And stops.

"Or don't you?" Kame enquires. It's better if they're both sure.

Jin nods; Kame feels the tug in his grip, small and meek. "Yes, I want to. I want to get myself ready for you."

Kame releases him, takes a step back. "I think that's a great idea," he says. "Would you like to use the bed?"

"Yes," Jin repeats, flat but obliging. "I'd like that."

Kame smiles and indicates the direction of the large, still pristine bed. Jin hesitates about rising but Kame simply nods, that's fine, they can be practical here.

He rearranges the arm chair to his liking, loosens his clothing again. Jin sits down at the bottom of the bed and stays there, as though he knows that his permission only extends so far and it's time for talking again.

"Now what do you want to do?" Kame says.

"I want to lie down," Jin starts. The careful attention is a welcome change of pace; he doesn't lean back, because Kame hasn't told him to. So different.

"Sounds good so far," Kame says, encouraging.

"I want to be on my back, and spread my legs..." Another pause, a question, but no, it's still not enough; there can be more, and Kame will wait until he's heard it all. "...spread them wide," Jin says, with a hitch that makes up for the tonelessness. "So you can see."

"See what?"

"See when I..." He thinks, backtracks; flushed again but fast enough, engaged enough. "Watch me open myself up. For you." Kame nods, waits. "With my fingers." His hands are curled over the edge of the bed, unclenched and elegant, and Kame can't help looking at them because he knows Jin is _thinking_ of them and trying not to hide them; and Kame feels a little breathless.

"Very slowly," Jin adds, when Kame remains silent. "Until I'm ready."

Kame looks at him a moment longer, because Jin is being so good not hiding his eyes from him. But now he's ready – very ready – to see all of that, so he says, "Then you can get started."

Jin keeps up the even stare; more thinking, and finally, "What... how—"

"How do you like to do it?" Kame asks back.

Jin waits, though he looks like he has an answer. "I like it slick. I like it... so when I slide my fingers inside... it's slick and..."

"Easy?" Kame asks, not even minding much, though Jin starts anyway, thoughts flashing unsettled and intriguing through his eyes.

"So that it's really slow," he says after he's rallied. "So I can do it... for a long time... over and over... until I'm really ready," and he swallows, voice dipping a bit but holding steady. "So it stays wet, and if you want to fuck me you can just push in and I'm ready..." He keeps his eyes on Kame, nervously concentrating; doesn't let them flinch down even when Kame drops a hand to his cock that just got harder.

He strokes himself just once, a controlled touch to take the edge off, and then the way Jin's not looking there, not looking with so much focus, makes him do it again. "That's very considerate of you." He smiles at him. "I'll let you do that then."

Jin doesn't move; only a tiny twitch in his brow. "Now?" he asks evenly, patiently almost, like he wants to give Kame a chance to be really sure he's heard enough talking.

"Now would be good," Kame confirms, because he's sure Jin can multitask.

He lets his smile widen as he points his chin up, and Jin gets the message and pushes himself backward, fully onto the bed. Once he's there he stretches left to get lube out of the drawer. He thinks for a moment, then leans back on his elbows, seeks confirmation from Kame.

Kame nods, and Jin lies flat on the sheets; not even a pause and he pulls his feet towards his body, wide apart, opening up a view for Kame.

"Good," Kame says, because Jin can't see his smile now. "And now?"

"I want to get my fingers wet..." A soft little sound as Jin gets what he needs, and Kame can see his arms moving. The empty sachet drops to the clean sheet a moment later. "And I want to touch myself."

He doesn't follow through – perhaps unsure, Kame thinks, perhaps stalling, and he instructs, "So do that."

And Jin moves his hand down; Jin's stomach goes tight with a held breath. Kame feels his own breath clench in him as he watches – muscles shifting in Jin's long pale legs when Jin struggles with balance, lifts enough so he can reach high under one thigh, and up; some awkward adjustment to get... enough reach for those fingers, and Kame puts a still hand over himself, and Jin slides the first testing touch inside.

Not deep; Jin needs to discover the angle first, and Kame presses down on his cock when there's more fumbling, adjustment and why nobody has ever made him do this before... because he looks perfect, stiff limbs and uneven breaths and that finger flexing, his hand trying to find room. The air is hot and Kame stops touching himself long enough to shift his chair a foot closer.

The movement stops.

"You're doing well," Kame tells him, and settles again. Takes in the picture. "Keep going."

And Jin does, a dip and back and then he goes deeper, deep as he can with his wrist trapped like that, and Kame moves his hand on himself with the slide of Jin's finger, slow as promised, shiver-inducing.

"And tell me."

Hesitation, but glossed over fast; Jin is remembering. "It feels slick. It feels..." He breathes in on the slide out; he might not even be aware. "It feels good. Good... to stretch myself. And get ready."

"To do it properly."

"Yes," Jin picks it up. "Slow, and slick, so I'm—"

"You don't get to do that much, do you," Kame says, his voice low but cutting Jin off without trouble, and he knows the answer even before he sees it in the tiny hitch, before it curls fierce and perfect in his blood.

"No." Plain and cold in the end; he's not getting more. But he can insist.

"No?"

No hesitation this time. "No. Only with you," and Jin can sound as uncaring as he wants to, it doesn't change the _fact_ and how fucking hot he is, like that, stretched out and nobody else... "Only for you, getting ready for your cock, so you can watch me. So you get hard and can fuck me like you want to."

And Kame does want to, wants to show him badly... only this is too good; the slide smoothing out, Jin's body finding a rhythm now, hips rising into his own touch ever so often. "And you like doing it."

Barely a pause. "I like it."

"Why do you like it?" Kame asks, and his voice is hoarse with what he hears and what he sees. Jin's neck is stretched, eyes probably closed but there's enough awareness in Jin's voice to make up for it, enough of his tight, obliging words. "Because I think of your cock, moving like that. And that you're watching me. I like that you can see me getting ready."

"You think you're ready yet?" Kame would be ready, feels more than ready in his hand, but he has patience, he has control, and there's a sheen of sweat on Jin, strain and willingness combined and it'll be worth any wait.

A moment; but Kame thinks his tone was clear enough... and yes, Jin says, "No. I need to be stretched more. Wider."

"So what do you want now?"

"I want to do it with more fingers."

Kame feels warm, his control shakier, but Jin is doing well, _so_ well, and it'll be worth seeing... he can wait a little more. "Then you should."

This is faster, too; almost careless, two fingers pushing in and deep on the first go, Jin's thighs tensing with a higher lift.

"Is that better?" Kame asks, feeling breathless.

"Yes," Jin says at once. "It's better. Thicker," he adds when Kame is silent. "I can feel it more."

"It's good," Kame says.

"It's good. It's what I want." He isn't hard, he's lying, but he's lying so nicely that maybe... much as Kame likes to watch, maybe he can help him out.

He stops touching himself. "You want to feel more?"

"Yes," Jin says, and he has to think again but before he continues Kame is standing and Jin freezes, hand still between his thighs, his fingers inside.

"Maybe I should help you then," Kame says, and he doesn't remember the last time he's done this, doesn't _want_ to remember because he never does this here, but now he can't wait. "Maybe I can do it better."

Jin stares up at him and it's good to be able to see his eyes again, and those lips which he licks again nervously before he manages, "Yes." Kame notices in passing that his hand has dropped away now.

"You can do better than that," he says, not unfriendly, because Jin has given a good show. "What do you want?"

Jin exhales slowly, carefully and still it looks like a dark, seductive shudder. "I want you to put your fingers in me," he says, on what seems to be no air at all.

Kame presses his thumb hard against the head of his cock; he's not ready to come yet, he's not, and he won't. He takes a step and kneels on the bottom of the bed. "Why do you want that?"

It takes time, and two tense swallows working down Jin's throat, and a raised eyebrow from Kame.

"Because you can do it better," Jin says, on a weird rush of breath. "You can stretch me better."

Kame moves forward, waits.

"Because I can feel more."

Another shift and now he's between Jin's legs, can feel his heat around him and can look straight into his eyes when he puts a finger against the back of his thigh and slowly trails it down, and inward.

"What can you feel?"

Still a struggle, though Jin should really know by now, Jin should just— "You," he breathes. "Because I can feel you, in—"

He stops when Kame touches the slick centre, just touches and waits. "Yes?"

"It feels good."

Kame rubs against it a little, just a small circling motion, a warm shiver coiling in his stomach; it's almost new, he hasn't touched anyone like this in so long. "That feels good?"

"Yes." Jin's stomach is all tense again and Kame puts out his other hand, rests it easily just below his navel.

"And?" If Jin wants to play coy with his answers, Kame can be patient.

But then it comes quickly, toneless. "And I want more."

"How do you want more?"

"Inside," Jin says. "I want them inside."

Kame turns his finger a little, circles the other way. "Are you sure now? You know how to ask."

"I'm sure. Please."

He's sure, too; slides two fingers in slow and smooth, and Jin stares straight ahead, blank, unblinking. Kame pauses, concentrates on heat and on not coming and on Jin so tense and tight and it shouldn't even feel like this when it's just his fingers, it shouldn't be so _hot_.

He sinks deeper. It's wet like Jin promised, Jin's _feeling_ him like he promised, every shift and slide finding an echo in a tight breath, a secret twitch.

He should have done this so much sooner.

All the way in, hard up against Jin, he holds it, for a few beats of a pulse around him, then pulls back, slow, soundless, all the way out, Jin biting his lip.

He strokes the place with his thumb, teasing; holds Jin's eyes. "And?"

Only a moment. The answer is obvious. "I want it again."

He pushes fast all the way this time, Jin's body giving way slick and easy, Jin's hips tilting unconsciously to meet him. And Jin's getting hard.

"You like that," Kame observes; not touching him there, not yet, but Jin knows, has gone still again, breathing tightly. Kame pulls back, with a bit more stretch, and back in, watching Jin's cock fill, watching Jin swallow back sound and think fumbled fleeting thoughts, until Kame just holds and waits.

Jin's motionless, breathing shallow. "I like it."

He's drawing it out, avoiding Kame's eyes, until Kame says, "And?"

"I want it again," Jin says, eyes on the ceiling, skin shining with tension. "Please do it again."

And he can have that; he can have more. Kame shifts his weight, breathes hard through his arousal. Jin is mesmerizing.

"Don't be shy," he whispers after a few slow slides, Jin's hips answering tight, secret, and suddenly Jin freezes. "You can show me."

Jin stares, and holds absolutely still.

Kame pushes once, fingers spreading; waits, and then he does it again; a taut shudder through Jin that has nothing to do with getting fucked, and then something gives, and Jin meets him, pushing into his touch and everything about it is hot and tight and breathtaking.

There's a shiver each time Kame thickens his touch, plays with friction. "You like that a _lot_ ," he says, without stopping, and Jin doesn't stop either, flows with it as dark eyes meet Kame's, and there's nothing in them Kame recognizes.

It comes out thick, rough, "Yes. I like it a lot," and a quick intake of breath as he bites off some sound; Kame thinks he'd have liked to hear it, Jin's always so quiet.

"So I'm doing it right," he whispers. Jin's fingers are clenched on the sheets but his legs spread wider when Kame leans forward, nudges... sinks in easily, and something is happening to Jin's body, all those tense lines unravelling, loose now and lost.

"Yes," Jin is saying, head falling to the side, eyes closing but that's all right, there's no distance now, only his touch, and Jin giving up. "Just right. Like I want it."

Kame thinks about reaching for Jin's cock, wants to feel it hot and thickening... but he doesn't even have to, Jin's getting what he needs from his fingers and opening up, breaking down—

He twists his fingers on the next pull out, curling them and trying to brush along the—

Yes. And Jin's eyes are squeezed shut and he's not breathing now, but he's hard, unmistakably, undeniably.

"You like that too?"

No hesitation. No shutting Kame out anymore. "Yes. I like it too." No fight.

He brushes past the right spot again, faster this time, and he's so hard himself, skin prickling with how close he's got Jin. "And?"

"I want more," immediately, "I want it faster," and Kame barely needs to take a breath, "Please do it faster." Hips going with it when Kame obliges, Jin's stomach tightening when he lifts to meet the thrust, and the sight is gorgeous. 

"I could make you come like this," Kame says the next time he makes Jin jerk, and there's nothing, not even hesitation.

"Yes. I'd come like this."

"Or when I'm fucking you."

And Jin goes with that too, shimmering and abandoned, red lips parted, dark hair sticking to the side of his face. "I'd come— yes. From your fingers. " Another tilt of his hips, and he's so hot where Kame keeps meeting sweaty skin. "Or from your cock. When you're fucking me."

"What do you want?"

One long breath, a pause; Jin sinks against his hand with a stutter, muscles going tense with shredded concentration. Then his voice is rough and urgent. "I want you to fuck me."

Kame lays his free hand on the inside of Jin's thigh, teases out a shiver that makes him gasp when he feels it around his fingers.

Jin's face is half in the sheets still, but his neck is a sight like this too, tense and available. "Please fuck me. Please…"

It's tempting… so tempting, when Jin is begging for it, when he'd take it and _thank_ him for it and… easy. Too easy, maybe, and too _soon_ for sure, it shouldn't end yet when Jin is finally like this.

Let Jin work for what he wants a bit longer.

Kame pushes at Jin's leg for more room, kneels forward a little, fingers still inside, leans in over Jin and waits until Jin looks at him. He doesn't have to wait long, and Jin's eyes are as lost and dazed as he's ever seen them.

"I'll fuck you later," he promises.

And something goes _sharp_. Kame's taken aback with how sudden it is, how harsh the focus flares and Jin's not moving, not saying anything, not fighting him off at all but...

" _What_?" he asks. He _liked_ the honesty, before.

Jin doesn't flinch at his tone. "You can fuck me when you like," he says, his chest rising, still sweaty... settling. "Whenever you like." And the cold stare doesn't waver when he lifts his hips, a nudge on Kame's fingers that feels almost... not right. Different.

He pulls them out slowly, wipes them briefly on the sheet. "Yes," he says, "I can," sliding a hard grip over Jin's thigh as he leans in closer. "But you can do other things for me first."

Jin goes with the prompt, his leg a warm, unresisting presence against Kame's side. "Whatever you like," he says with cool politeness.

But that's not how it will go. Jin's not going to shut him out again, no _fucking_ way. Kame smiles quite invitingly. "Whatever _you_ like, remember?"

Jin's still not moving except for his breath stabilising, his erection fading, tension draining slowly from his body.

"So what do you like?" Kame asks, staying right where he is. "What do you like _best_ , when you're not fucking yourself on my fingers?"

A flicker, a flash of embarrassment at least but then Jin is only thinking and he could be more urgent about it, a bit less like he's got time to—

"Well?" Kame snaps, slides his fingers into Jin's hair, and Jin gets with it.

"I like it when you fuck my mouth. I want your cock in my mouth."

Good. "That's right," he says again, tightening his grip. "And why do you want that?" They'll see how detached Jin can be, how _smooth_ when he'll beg Kame—

"Because I want to taste you."

" _And_?"

Jin's better when the answer isn't obvious, when he has to dig around for it. "Because it's what I do best. It's what I'm meant to do." Quite calm, still.

"Aren't you just," Kame says quietly, and Jin takes a small, focused breath. They'll get there. "I could tell. You looked stunning, earlier."

A tiny start, something less cold flaring up in Jin's eyes; he's not happy with the reminder. Kame places his fingertips on Jin's lips just like he did then, his other hand still in Jin's hair, holding him down... but there's no need, Jin doesn't rebel, holds very still.

"You're so perfect for it," he says, holding Jin's eyes. "Bet you like it with anybody." Presses down on the moist red fleshjust a bit when there's no answer.

"Yes," Jin says, and nothing more.

"And you must have loved that," Kame pushes on. "Being on your knees for your junior, showing him what you _really_ like." And there's the telltale tension, Jin's breathing careful and quiet, and it starts the rush again, a fierce sweep of want and certainty, and Kame knows he's not going to lose here. "Didn't you," he adds, louder, and there's a flinch, and the reply, words pushed quickly past his fingertips.

"I did. I liked it."

Kame stares down at him. "It's a pity you didn't get to finish. We didn't get to finish." And he's so hard by now with what he's denying himself, with Jin's breath on his thumb.

Quick, quick thoughts flickering behind Jin's eyes. "I'm sorry," is what he finds, and that's _good_ , that's right, a low raspy default Kame can live with just fine.

"So now you want to suck me," he challenges, "after all the fuss you made earlier." He nods over his shoulder, where the armchair is, where Jin brought it all on himself.

More thinking, fast and shadowed, but Kame doesn't feel worried. "Yes. I want it. I want to suck you."

"You won't make a fuss?"

Jin shakes his head against Kame's wrist; freezes. "I won't. I'll be good. I'll do it just the way you like it."

"And you'd know what that would be?" He wants to let go, sit back on his heels but the closer he keeps an eye on Jin the less things go wrong and they're not fully set up here, they should be _clear_ about things. "If I let you? If I give you another chance?"

Jin's throat moves, mouth opening a moment before he makes words. "Yes. I'll show you."

"How?"

Jin is thinking, images chasing each other and he hits on—

"With— I should be on my knees. I want to be on my knees."

Nice one. Kame gives Jin a smile. It sinks in with a tiny ripple.

"All right," he says, and lets go, sits back. "Let's try again then."

He swings his legs off the bed, this is easy, comfortable. With a nice good view.. Jin is only a little clumsy gathering his limbs together before he sinks to his knees on the floor in front of him.

Kame takes a moment to look. To card his fingers through Jin's hair, to run a hand down his neck. Follow the line of his jaw and watch Jin just stare ahead, breathe calmly, hold still.

He pauses, so Jin looks up at him, and then traces that full bottom lip again with his fingers, until Jin parts his lips wider, full consent. "This is what you want," he says.

Jin breathes, "Yes," past his fingertips.

"You'll show me?" he asks, and god, yes, Jin will. "You'll earn it?"

He moves his fingers to Jin's chin, tilts it up further, and he thinks he sees Jin's jaw clench, but all Jin says is, "Yes. I will. I'll make it good for you."

It's good already, seeing him struggle with it and say it all the same, knowing he'll do it all the same, like there's nothing Kame can't get him to do now.

He smiles and releases Jin, readies himself. "So how do you want to do it?"

"Slow," Jin says. "I'll do it slow. Make it last."

Kame nods. "Make sure you do that." Not that he's sure he's capable of lasting, after all this time... He leans back on his arms, and breathes deep. "Go ahead."

The first instant almost makes him come. He is _so_ ready, has been ready to come for so long, and every time he's close it takes more control to bring himself down, to hold on just a little longer because there are more things he wants to do before this ends. Even now, with Jin's mouth warm and wet around him, wet and yielding like Jin was around his fingers, with the rhythm just right and the teasing flicks of Jin's tongue—

But he can't see his face, not like he could then, so rewarding to watch the attitude fade and learn what he looks like when he's beyond hiding, and now his eyes are shadowed by those bangs again and who knows what he's thinking while he sucks, taking Kame deep, a little jolt going through Kame whenever the tip of his cock hits the back of Jin's throat and another jolt when Jin's lips tighten just under the head, and... he's going to... no.

He reaches out and holds Jin off before he next sinks down, and Jin... responds instantly, calm and accepting, but that openness hasn't come back, not like then, and Kame wants it back, wants...

He clenches his teeth for a moment, clamps down on the thoughts of what he wants Jin to say, what Jin's going to give him, shuts his eyes and rides it out in silence and... okay. Still under control.

"Having fun?" he asks. "In your element?"

"Yes," Jin says evenly, and then, with a glance at Kame's cock, "I can do it harder now. Faster."

And Kame feels sweaty with want, but no, not like that, no way. "Because you want it over?"

"No." Jin shakes his head faintly, as far as Kame's grip allows. "Because you're ready. Because I want to make it good for you." His eyes are unflinching as he adds, "I want you to take me and hold me still, and show me how to make it good."

Kame bites his lip and... did Jin do that on purpose, is he hoping to make him come early just by _talking_ at him?

"There's time for that," he says sharply. "We've got all night."

He keeps hold of Jin, waits for it to sink in, for Jin to blink once, nervously. "Yes," Jin says quietly.

"So show me how much you are enjoying it," Kame says. He eases up on Jin's hair, gives him just enough leeway and god, Jin _gets_ it, leaning forward with his eyes on Kame for as long as he can, touching nothing but the head of Kame's cock with his tongue. A slow, respectful lick, and round the other way, licking off the precome; before he straightens again. Licks his lips, and Kame sucks in a panicked breath. Manages to hold on just barely, and it takes a moment, two...

...and maybe Jin was planning on that, too, hoping Kame would lose it, maybe he feels in _charge_ now, and maybe Kame should just give him what he wants, give it to him for real, and more.

"Hard, then," he says, doesn't wait for Jin to catch up, tightens his grip and holds him down, pushes up and lets him have it.

Once, twice, Jin takes it fast and messy and soon it's enough, soon Kame is clutching the edge of the mattress with the hand that's not in Jin's hair and it's not long now, he _can't_ , and he wants to _see_ , Jin's eyes and the way he'll give at last, wants to make him give if he doesn't, and he stops, pulls out, panting.

"What do you want now?" he asks, holding his cock steady and holding Jin in place and it looks just right.

"I want you to come in my mouth," Jin says immediately, not moving, but his lips part and he wants to go down again, wants to take him deep and lower his eyes...

"I don't think you do," Kame says, and his arms are locked, firm.

And there's the flash of understanding, Jin goes _rigid_ and god, _yes_ , and thank god it will be soon.

"I..." Jin falters; stares. Nothing about him clever now, no hiding, those wet soft lips that make no sound and his eyes blinking fast, defenseless.

" _Tell me._ "

A breath; a thought that runs off to nowhere and Kame leans forward, can feel the flinch against his fist. Jin is hot between his legs and trapped and _they're_ hot and _close_ and this is going to happen, they know it both.

"I'm going to do it anyway," he breathes, so close he can feel the heat of Jin's face. "But if you ask for it, I'm going to let you wash it off." He doesn't know where it comes from, it's weird and wild in his own ears but for a moment he can see it, can see Jin _believe_ it, Jin with streaks of come drying on his face and in his hair, getting fucked, getting to please Kame more as the night Kame bought stretches out, it's right there in Jin's wide eyes, dirty and hot, and Kame can just about stop himself, and then Jin says it.

"I want you to come on my face."

Naked and rough and small, and it's blazing through Kame, he's shaky with it and breathing hard and Jin isn't breathing at all, all tense and brittle edges.

"Fine," Kame says, voice burning like the rest of him. "You can help me out then."

He keeps his grip tight, keeps Jin's eyes where he wants them, and Jin gets it, gets it despite that struggle there, like he wants to fight except he won't.

His hand is shaking when he raises it, those long pale fingers wrapping around him carefully... and Kame is _so_ ready, even more when he covers Jin's hand and shows him how, shows him not to try anything funny but he won't because he gets no time, it's so good and fast and Kame is so, so close—

And Jin breathes out and that's all, that's it, just Jin's eyes and the choking little breath and Kame presses tight around Jin's hand for the last stroke and he comes, comes so hard he can barely keep his eyes open to watch Jin flinch with the first spurt, white splatters on his cheek and hair right by Kame's wrist, and Kame bites back any sound because he wants to hear _everything._ And the next one hits near Jin's mouth, and the next on his chin, and Jin is still now and silent, staring somewhere through him.

It's quiet. Quiet, except for Kame's harsh breathing, his body wild and airless. Jin's hair is damp in his grip, damp like Kame's skin under the hot surges; Jin's body warm and tame between his legs as need and drive stutter away in helpless little shocks.

Finally the sharpness fades.

Jin... sticky white tracks down his face, swollen lips and those dark, shuttered eyes...

Different.

Intense.

Kame breathes. It felt good. He hasn't come like that in... he isn't sure. His thoughts feel slow, unsteady.

That... was something... Weird. Amazing. Weirdly amazing.

He lets go of Jin's hand, and Jin lowers it without a word.

It was good to have him like this. Better than anything they've had before. And Jin shows no sign of wanting to move, and that's fine, too, it's what Kame wanted. He had to work hard for it. His arm feels heavy, but he reaches out anyway; they were doing something here, making a point.

Jin starts at the movement, stiffens when Kame draws his thumb through the slippery smear beside his mouth, spreads it over fine skin...

...sees thoughts speed up and sharpen and blaze with— and Jin takes a slow breath, and then he just waits, waits for Kame to do whatever he likes, eyes on Kame's face. It would be uncomfortable if there was any challenge but there's none, there's nothing now, and Kame doesn't know what he was hoping for.

But it was hot. And it _is_ hot, having Jin so obedient, it's what he's wanted, and he'll want more of it. Only... Later, maybe. They have all night.

Kame sits back, feeling heavy and slow, rubs lingering stickiness between his fingers. He could get Jin to... yes, he could. Maybe they don't have to prove it when it's so clear. He wipes his hand on his trousers instead.

He jerks his head sideways for Jin to get out of the way, because it's getting too warm. Then he tucks himself in carelessly, just so he doesn't look ridiculous.

He feels dizzy when he stands, blood going to his legs like another aftershock because... well, it was intense, and they dragged it out forever. He's damp and sensitive under his clothes. Sure, this part feels more natural when you're naked, stretched out on the smooth sheet. He'll feel more normal, feel nothing but warmth and satisfaction once he's had a shower, after...

Jin is kneeling where he left him, not moving. Proper deference, though he can't like it much. Kame wonders if he gets it more often, if other people look at him and want to know how well he'll take it, if they can get him to beg... and he stops, because he doesn't want to think of other clients and what they do or don't do, and he doesn't have to, this is all part of the deal. New, for Kame, he can't remember even being curious but... part of the deal, part of Jin's job.

He wipes his hands again, down his shirt, just sweat now, before he opens the mini bar.

A full rest. And he promised Jin... It's hard to think clearly with his legs weird and tired from orgasm, to imagine fucking Jin in any pleasurable detail, but that's what rests are for, of course, they can take their time. Cool off, recover, see what they're in the mood for then.

He leans against the polished wood, holds the water bottle without opening it. Thinks and stares at the display... It's worth staring at, of course, Jin is gorgeous, the most stunning... But Kame doesn't make comparisons. Jin works for _this_. This works for them, they've just shown how good it can be. And they're done for now, taking a break, and Kame can be true to his word.

"You can go wash up now," Kame says, finds his voice low and scratchy with exhaustion. But no wonder; he had to be focused for so long.

Jin gets up without a sound, and he's beautiful to just watch quietly, thick hair a tangled curtain around his face, those long legs unfolding forever; a still moment before his shoulders straighten and he slowly turns to face Kame fully.

"Take a shower if you want," Kame specifies, because he's not unreasonable, and that's a reasonable course of action for all concerned. He's going to have a plan before Jin comes out, figure out how he wants to spend the rest of the night, and... "You can run me a bath while you're in there." That'll feel good, too; they have these fancy jacuzzi tubs, and why not make use of the room, after Yuuya picked a decent one.

"Yes," Jin says, turns away towards the bathroom door, and suddenly Kame draws in an easy breath.

He gulps down some water straight from the bottle, then leaves it on the bar. Uses the toilet and washes his hands, and the room looks big and empty somehow when he returns. Sometime, he doesn't know when, the music stopped; but even in the quiet, he can't hear the sounds of the shower, or the bathtub filling, because discretion is built into this place. But he knows Jin will do what he's told, and he can get out of his clothes now, stop feeling sticky, and weirdly in costume. They keep bathrobes in the slim wardrobes, and he usually wears those when an evening runs long.

This wasn't part of his plans for the night, and he needs to be practical for a moment, too.

Once he's wrapped in dry pleasant fabric, he calls the concierge to arrange to have his clothes cleaned, and then puts them outside the door in a bag. It'll take two hours and there's nothing weird about it, they're geared up for guests to make engagements impulsively, unprepared for an overnight stay.

When he almost trips over Jin's clothes he picks them up and drops them over a chair.

He stops before the bed, its sheets creased at the center, the empty sachet looking stark where Jin dropped it. Darker traces of lube, messy lines where he pressed between Jin's legs and made him twist and quiver, clench his hands into the sheets as he pushed himself blind and needy onto—

He perches on the very edge, tapping his fingers on clean, white cotton. Not his usual thing, to do that with an escort. It's not necessary, and not something he'd say he enjoys, except he did, when Jin got all lost.

So Jin likes that a lot. Weird, that he'd get in such a state over it, when he's got to do all kinds of stuff, all kinds of guys, who won't exactly ask him...

Maybe not so weird.

Weirder, maybe, that Kame should care about finding out what will make him lose it, so much that he can't stop prodding, wanting to see just how far he can push. That it would make him want to... god, he shouldn't be blushing. He did it, and he liked it, and Jin took it and that... is that.

It can't be ten minutes yet. He shouldn't be impatient. There's no reason to be, it's not like he's uncomfortable, there's nothing for him to wash off except some sweat.

And he won't pace, stays where he is, stretches his naked feet over thick cream carpet.

It's just that he's feeling tired, maybe from all that intensity, coming so hard after so much concentration... different. Different from sex with Tatsuya or Takuya or any others, sex he likes just fine. And he doesn't dwell on it because he doesn't make comparisons... how would you compare Jin, anyway? But this... this isn't something he's always been looking for and has finally found. It's an exception, and he's feeling exhausted.

At least he got something out of it, something new and unusual, and hot water and some time to rest will settle him fully, let him sink into the welcome slackness of a normal date night.

He hears the click of the lock, at last, and turns. Jin, a towel wrapped around his hips, is approaching with measured steps as Kame rises and turns to tell him—

It hits him like a wall. Like a wave of water, hard and boiling and sucking him under and... he can't stop staring, and he can't move, and he can't _breathe_. He doesn't know what it is, only those eyes, and the high forehead, almost square with all hair brushed back and dark strands just curling at the edges, and it's _wrong_ , it's like vertigo, lengths and depth and time jarring and messed up, and he can't stop _staring_...

Jin's eyes, and they're wide again and searching and safe.

"You told me to go take a shower."

Kame unfreezes, because he's standing here with _Jin_ and he's not going to act like a weirdo while Jin is watching him like that, he's not going to give Jin any reason to laugh at him or make snide comments or...

Jin is hardly breathing. He wouldn't have the air to laugh.

"Yeah," Kame says, and just looks down, doesn't look anymore, needs to get it together and thank god he's spent long nights with escorts before, thank god he knows how to be smooth. He mentions the TV, and food, and even the bath, and then he's in there and he closes the door, _locks_ the door, and waits for his heart to stop pounding in his ears.

What the _fuck_.

Warm air settles damp on his skin, more sweat and slow thickness but the fogginess is soothing, calms him down.

He slips out of the bathrobe and lets it drop, wraps a shaky grip around a handrail meant for men older and frailer than him.

The first step in feels too hot, well past the point of pleasant but he doesn't care, he can focus on that and ease himself in, and when he's sitting and leaning back, exhaling with the water pressing on his chest, he feels better. Almost anchored.

What the fuck.

Jin wasn't mocking him. Jin was so far from mocking him, Kame doesn't even know where the thought came from. It's just... suddenly it was there because _Jin_ was suddenly there and...

And that's idiocy. Because Jin belongs here, he _works_ here, and Kame _knows_ he's here.

He sinks under once, gets his hair properly wet. It gets rid of the sticky clamminess.

But all this weirdness with him, every time they run into each other... maybe that's why. Maybe all those things he suddenly wants to do, all those wild crazy urges are what's making him see ghosts.

Maybe there's a reason he's never felt the need to experiment before; maybe some saving instinct in him knew better.

He lays his head back on the rim, keeping his eyes on the fragile pastel patterns painted on the ceiling.

He nearly ended up in a fucking threesome tonight. When did that ever happen to him?

 _Yuuya_ looked at him funny.

He pulls up sharp, stops that train of thought; he didn't ask Jin to run him a bath so he could freak out and let a tired brain run away with him.

Experimentation. Everybody does it. So now Kame's done it too. And maybe it worked, for a bit, but he doesn't _need_ it, doesn't have to indulge if it makes him feel weird and fucks with his perception.

He should have brought a drink. He could do with one, to slow his thoughts down, take the edge off the uncertainty he doesn't want to deal with when Jin is out there and they have half a rest left to go, and he can't very well pack up and say he can't _handle_ Jin...

His knees make soft splashy sounds when he shifts them around, lets them cool for a moment before pulling them back under, enjoying the sensation, watching the sunk ceiling lights reflect off the ripples until they calm.

It helps to be in here, to relax. Figure out what he wants.

And Jin... Jin isn't going to be difficult, not really, they've established that, and what goes on in Jin's head is his own business. Why should Kame care. Maybe it can work just like normal, like it would with someone else who isn't Tatsuya or Takuya.

He's tired anyway. He can go easy on himself – on them both if Jin will let him – and then no strange moments, no weird crazy panic can sneak up on him... He knows how to do this.

He lets his arms float, and waits to feel the lightness.


	16. Chapter 16

### Friday 03 October

He can't hear a thing.

He's got the TV on, the news anchor talking about whatever it is she's talking about, something about pirates in Africa, far away, but that's not why. He's got the volume on low. The walls are why. Thick and strong, discreet. To make the client comfortable. His client, behind the door, relaxing in the tub, gearing up... he can't hear a thing.

He runs a hand through his hair, still drying; drying wrong because he doesn't have stuff here, and didn't ask about using the hairdryer. But that's not his fault. He showered, it's the middle of an appointment, nobody looks like they just arrived in the lounge.

He lets his arms sink, pulling them in close. He feels damp on the leather and weird, and he's getting cold.

On the screen, they're talking about the Russian stock exchange. Jin really doesn't give a shit, but it's better than silence. Better with something moving, better than staring at the door, or staring anywhere _but_ the door.

He rubs his feet, one over the other. The couch really isn't that comfortable, not when you're naked save for a damp towel, and Jin isn't even thinking about slipping into a sweater, getting dressed. Just something would do, a bathrobe. Not too different from a towel, and that's what they're hanging in the wardrobe for, for use. People can't sit around naked forever, that's not reasonable.

It's that his heart has slowed; or _he_ has slowed, some weird mix between awake and exhausted, like coffee in the middle of the night, or champagne for lunch, and he's ready and awake but a little bit slow, he can feel that. That's why he's cold.

And watching the Russians on TV doesn't make it go away. His skin is all goosebumps, and he knows he's huddling. That's stupid. He should get something to wear.

He listens to another recital of some numbers that have nothing to do with him before he stands up. Waits. Pulls the towel tight and secure, and waits, one more moment, but nothing happens; nothing should happen. Just a bathrobe. Nothing wrong with that.

They hang in a neat little row, three still left, as if that's likely, as if people often—

He slides one off, keeps the hanger from rattling, closes the door quietly. Slips it on and wraps it tight around himself, and then he gets back on the couch, a little closer to the corner. His feet on the floor are still cold.

He stares at moving colours on the screen, some chart. Maybe it's still the Russians.

The room feels big just to cross. Big, and empty. But he's glad he's alone. At least he got Yuu-chan out of here. God, he's glad.

He really doesn't care about the stock market. But he stares anyway, stares and listens, and there's no sound other than people who don't even know who he is.

They know him here, though. Out beyond the panelled door and beyond the time that belongs to Kamenashi, they know him and they know he's in here, and Kamenashi can't _hurt_ him.

That's good, and he'll keep it in mind. Kamenashi won't hurt him; just maybe dream up something else Jin's going to hate, but Jin hates many things, and he can cope, and maybe he should get ready.

Not that he knows what for. All he knows is what _not_ – Kamenashi knows what's allowed and what isn't, at least not without more money and not with Jin, and he's clever enough to stay just this side of that line. Expert at it. 'Playing around'; one of those guys who know just how much they can get away with, and sure, it doesn't matter, why should it matter if you come in a guy's mouth or on his legs or—

Somehow Kamenashi finds the stuff that matters. Finds ways to make it matter.

It's going to be a fine day tomorrow, the pretty pictures on the screen say, and then there are advertisements for the best spots to watch the leaves turn later in the month. Soccer after this; he'll have to find a new channel, some other boring lecture about things he couldn't care less about.

Not that he's watching TV because Kamenashi told him to. He might as well have it on, since there's nothing else to do. But Kamenashi did tell him to, so he can't throw a fit over it either when he comes back out of there to... well, whatever. Whatever he figures out he wants now, whatever he wants to try out on Jin.

Two channels over is a nature program; spiders, nothing cute and cuddly, thank god, so he stays with it.

He hopes Yuu-chan is okay.

Got spooked, for sure, but got out, and that matters most, and at least Kamenashi stopped before the worst of it and if— no, there's not going to be a next time, Yuuya knows now, knows Kamenashi isn't safe, and Jin hopes he's okay now, okay with some normal, sad old guy of a client if necessary, somewhere in a room, somewhere around here but not _here_. He shouldn't have to deal with Jin's deranged return customer, ever.

The spiders are starting to eat each other and creeping him out, which is something else he doesn't need, so he flips channels some more, and hey, here's the weekly news roundup, must be half past eleven.

More numbers, graphs and brokers. Maybe Jin should pay attention, maybe learn about investment. Because this is money, a whole lot. Good to keep that in mind, too. It sucks and it feels like forever, but he knows why, there's his rent for a month, more than his rent, in one single evening, and that's why he's doing this, why it's worth putting up with Kamenashi, why he lets a guy come on his face, and for a moment the fucking numbers blur away like the tiles of the shower and he swallows something tight and stinging, swallows it _down_ because Kamenashi is behind that door and there's things he can't afford.

He combs his fingers through his hair again. He can just feel it fall into a mess. But it doesn't matter. There'll be fucking for sure. Kamenashi's got stamina. There'll be fucking and touching and hands in his hair and hands all over him and it's going to last for fucking ever, and he'll be a mess anyway.

So it doesn't matter.

They've stopped talking about money. There's broken buildings and some brown grey dusty warzone, and it's not in Africa.

It feels different when it's open-ended. Comforts can be long when a guy doesn't just pay to get the fucking, but you still know _how_ long, and when it sucks you can measure the time until it's _over_. He's never had a rest before.

He'd figured they'd be good. Figured they'd be different. They _are_ different, for the others, more like dates. Not that Jin wants to date a client and flounder his way through hours of conversation. But he didn't want this, either.

He's a little hungry, his dinner was so long ago. Kamenashi said to order if he's hungry.

But Kamenashi doesn't know, so he won't have to take his food and thank him for it.

He pulls his legs up on the couch and starts to wrap his arms around them, then changes his mind because all the warning he'll get for Kamenashi reappearing will be the turn of the lock.

He's lost track of the TV but when he checks it's okay, more talking, nothing important, all good.

Kamenashi is taking a while. Sure likes his bath long, likes to recover, dream up— stuff.

Doesn't matter. The longer he stays in there, the better for Jin, the more time he has to regroup; and it's not like Kamenashi needs thinking time to find the shit that gets to him most, so it doesn't matter.

A month's rent and more, and Jin can handle it. Best if they get to the fucking quickly, a second orgasm should tire him out a bit. Maybe Jin can ask for it nicely, since Kamenashi seems to like that so much. He can handle that, too.

He moves his toes to try to warm them, quietly and unobtrusively. The carpet is thick enough, and he's got a nice dry bathrobe, and it could all be worse, but he's still feeling cold.

Then there's the click.

For one slow beat it's like he can _feel_ his heart, everywhere, and he takes a tight, quiet breath and makes a calmly attentive face as he turns that little way towards the bathroom door, every muscle under control.

Kamenashi looks soft inside the fluffy white terrycloth robe, a little flushed, his hair messier than Jin's and hanging in long damp strands. Whatever weird thing gave him a fit and sent him running for the bathroom, he seems to have got over it, seems pretty calm now, and that's... good. Got to keep him that way, Jin thinks, and he reaches for the remote to turn the TV off, signal readiness to—

"It's okay," Kamenashi says, "doesn't bother me." Jin isn't sure if that's a good thing, if they're going to fuck now to a backdrop of warzones and stockmarket alerts— and oh god, he's still got that bathrobe on, and Kamenashi never said anything about bathrobes and now he's looking at Jin.

He undoes the belt quickly, says, "I can take that off," hears himself sound pathetic and totally not smooth.

Kamenashi's eyes skim along the edge of the white cotton, but weirdly, and there's a shadow over them, wet hair hiding a frown...

"That's..."

He turns his head, as if that's meant to be a no, but it could be anything, and Jin keeps his back straight and his hands on the edges of his bathrobe until Kamenashi says, to the menu he picks up from the coffee table in front of Jin, "Did you order food?"

Right. Nakedness not required for now. He tries not to look like he's hiding himself when he tugs the robe closed over his chest again. "No." He felt more confident about that with Kamenashi away in a bathtub. "I didn't."

Not cold anymore, now, he's hot, sweaty.

"Would you like some now?"

"I'm not hungry," he says politely. "Thank you."

"Suit yourself." Kamenashi is reading slowly, with a focused expression. "I want to eat something," he says, to himself, to whomever, and it sounds strangely deliberate. He reads again, carefully, until he squares his shoulders and taps his index finger on the shiny little book, then puts it down.

He picks up the phone and ignores Jin until he's ordered his salad and nibbles, and Jin ignores the sounds on TV and the stretch of carpet he's staring at while he tries to read Kamenashi's tone, which is calm and tells him fuck-all.

And then he's done; puts the receiver down, sits down on the other half of the couch, and Jin doesn't know if he wants some attention now or just to be left in peace, or...

"What were you watching?"

Not looking at Jin just then, and Jin can get away with looking at the screen too. "The news." Waits a beat, for a reaction; for the gibe about educating himself, improving his vocabulary. Come on now. He'll deal, he doesn't care.

"Anything interesting?" Movement. But it's just Kamenashi crossing his legs, and there's— it's a bathrobe, of course he's naked underneath, it's not some fucking signal.

"Some war." He really doesn't want to go into specifics, he'd rather sound stupid. "Stock markets not doing so well."

"Cheerful," Kamenashi comments, and then gets up again. Wanders to the bar, and when he's opened it he does that focused reading again, this time of bottle labels.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

He's already refused food. To do more would... be noticed. Besides, he's hungry. "Tomato juice, please."

Kamenashi pours that first. Puts ice in the glass, which Jin didn't want, but he's not going to say anything. He just takes the juice when Kamenashi hands it down to him, says his thanks, takes a polite first sip and puts it down to wait for the ice to melt.

Kamenashi has a soda. He even slices a lemon for it.

He stays standing next to the sofa, takes a sip, eyes on the screen.

"Is that about whaling again?" he asks, a glance at Jin, a glance at the TV, a glance at his lemon slice.

Jin does the same thing; he can be attentive but he doesn't _stare_ , and that's probably okay, since Kamenashi's usually not subtle about what he wants from Jin.

And it's silent except for the commentator and when Jin remembers there was a question, it feels like forever has passed, and he has no clue what the answer is. But when he says, "I don't know," and looks very very carefully at the screen and whatever Kamenashi wants to talk about, Kamenashi just nods.

Jin can see him check the door, out of the corner of his eye. Waiting for food.

On the screen, there are serious people sitting around a table. America again, Jin picks up, and the serious people look kind of excited.

"Do you follow... are you interested in foreign affairs?"

Jin is faster now, doesn't ignore he's being asked something. "Sometimes," he says, safely and blandly, and nothing happens. Nothing except silence, and maybe Jin isn't playing this right, maybe he needs to think faster and— try. "Are you?"

Kamenashi lowers himself back into his corner to watch the discussion. "Sometimes," he echoes, and then he seems to realize he did that. "I try to stay up to date. Know what's going on in the world." Another sip. "Not as much as I probably ought to, though."

That... Jin's not quite sure what Kamenashi meant more, that last part or the fact that he is a conscientious member of society and good about his homework, but Kamenashi's eyes are distracted and he's not really paying attention.

So he makes his voice work again. "If you want to change channels..."

"No," Kamenashi says. "It's fine. I don't mind."

He sips some soda, and they watch as the prime minister talks about the economy, as the education minister talks about employability, as the Opposition's education spokesman criticizes the lack of work placement opportunities. Jin tries to not even _look_ like he remembers seeing the man downstairs on Wednesday, red-faced and hiccupping on his third or seventh glass of champagne.

Kamenashi is shifting; his eyes flicking to the door more and more often. But he ordered a warm Chicken Caesar salad and it takes a while to prepare fresh. He twists a strand of hair randomly between his fingers, where it curls against his collar, then wipes his fingers on his bathrobe. After a moment, he runs his hand over his head, brushing his hair behind his ears.

Then he stands, and Jin stills completely, doesn't let himself react in some way he might regret, doesn't track Kamenashi walking around the couch and over to the bed... until he remembers to be willing and attentive, and he looks across just as Kamenashi moves on to the dresser, to get the hairdryer out of the top drawer.

"I'm going to dry my hair," he says, nods towards the bathroom. "I'll just be in there."

Jin nods his understanding, tries not to show anything else.

Kamenashi pulls the door close, but doesn't shut it. Soon enough the sound starts, muffled, but covering the low-volume TV anyway.

Jin stares at the digital clock. Wonders how long Kamenashi takes for this.

Maybe five minutes, like Junnosuke.

Maybe twenty, like Tatsuya.

Normally, the noise annoys Jin, but right now it's the best thing in the world. He sinks against the backrest of the couch and allows himself to close his eyes; listening.

Turns out Kamenashi is someone who takes ten, like Shota. When the sound stops, Jin imagines the quick snap of the plug, maybe some rolling up if he's fussy and—

He stares at the door, for another endless minute.

Kamenashi comes out a little fluffy and a little damp, with his face all flushed. Dries his hair with his head upside down, Jin thinks, and then Kamenashi looks at him again and he stops thinking.

But the still moment doesn't last long; Kamenashi comes back to the couch and sits down and maybe that's the signal, they're getting closer to the food but...

Kamenashi has another sip of his soda, catches up with the TV, and messes with his hair again. He throws Jin a quick look, but then he seems to get stuck.

"If you'd like to..." He nods at— Jin's hair, right, and it doesn't sound like an instruction.

"Would you prefer that?"

This time, Kamenashi just shrugs. "Whatever suits you."

There's not much point; sure, he could make it wet again and tidy it all up, but what for, he knows what's still on the programme... and Kamenashi doesn't _sound_ like he cares... but then again it would buy time, get him out of the room...

He's taking too long to think about this. Watches Kamenashi lean back, focused on more stuff on TV, and it's probably going to look weird if he gets up now.

"I'm okay like this," he says.

Kamenashi nods absently. Sips at his drink again, shifts back a little bit, into the corner, but his robe stays closed and his eyes aren't commanding. "Good to have things a bit more relaxed."

Right.

"Yes," Jin says tamely.

"It's better with just the two of us, I think," Kamenashi is saying, and looking down, and frowning while he seems to think that through.

Jin very deliberately thinks of nothing. "Yes," he says with his head down. "Thank you."

"No, that's not—" No more, and when Jin checks, Kamenashi is shaking his head at the table. Shifts around a little, crosses his legs again, looks at the TV next, and maybe the wall.

Jin is silent. It would help if the food arrived.

"It's not really my thing," Kamenashi says next. "That." There's a shrug, like he knows Jin knows what he means.

Noted. He has another look, to nod understandingly and gratefully if so required, but Kamenashi is just frowning off into space. Then he stands up again and steps away from the sofa, and Jin tells himself he's not really relieved and not really so pathetic he actually _believes_ this guy, because Kamenashi can act with the best of them. Anyway, there's not going to _be_ a next time, this was... different, and it won't happen that way again.

There's a knock on the door.

Normally that's Jin's job, dealing with the in-room side of hospitality, and he sits up. But Kamenashi is on his feet already, takes a few firm steps towards the door, checks briefly through the spyhole and unlocks it.

Jin wraps his bathrobe even more firmly around himself, half-turns for the greeting.

It's Kido-san, one of the older waiters. For once, Jin doesn't mind the embarrassment of normal people seeing him on assignments; Kido is a welcome reminder that there are things outside this room, normal things and people who know him.

And the food will give Kamenashi something to do.

Kamenashi steps aside to let Kido wheel in the elegant food trolley with various covered plates on it. Jin meets Kido's eyes and they exchange a small nod of acknowledgement. Jin will take it from here.

Kamenashi thanks him politely and so does Jin, and then Kido bows again and retreats, and then he's gone and the door falls shut, the room closing in again.

Jin rises. But doesn't touch. You never know, with Kamenashi. "Would you like me to set it out?"

For a moment Kamenashi contemplates the trolley like he can't quite part with it. "Yes," he says then. "Please." He studies his surroundings and then goes to sit back down on the other end of the couch. Folds his hands in his lap. "Thank you."

Okay. Jin focuses on taking lids off without much noise, stacking them properly on the lower tray, and arranging the large salad plate, the little bowl of olives, the fresh-baked pizza crackers, the butter dish and the basket of fluffy bread on the coffee table without dropping anything. He succeeds. All that training.

"Would you like another drink?" he asks, and Kamenashi asks for water.

Jin gets a small bottle of Evian out of the bar, takes a fresh glass. "Would you like ice and lemon?" he asks, remembering.

Kamenashi affirms that, too, and as he's cutting an even slice and dropping ice cubes into the glass, Jin reminds himself not to let three minutes of normalcy fool him into assuming it's going to stay that way, into assuming he can expect anything at all.

Kamenashi thanks him for the water.

Jin sits back down. It's a weird balancing act to not stare at Kamenashi while he's eating, but not appear to ignore him, either. Easier when he's got something, too, when there's something else to focus on through the awkward silences.

The chicken and the egg are both warm and the scent of oil and herbs over them reminds Jin how hungry he is getting. But he's still glad he didn't order, he wants nothing that Kamenashi can give him.

At least it doesn't seem like Kamenashi wants to talk, regular as he is with his mouthfuls of salad, leaving no pauses anyone could be expected to fill. It's one less thing to worry about. Jin watches the TV, some late night variety show with stupid party games, but Kamenashi doesn't seem to mind it so he doesn't ask if he should change the channel. He's okay watching pop idols or whatever they are electrocute each other with office equipment.

He starts when there's another sound; Kamenashi's leaned forward and is pushing the bowl of olives at him. "Would you like some? Some bread with it?"

Didn't he tell him he didn't want anything?

"I'm not really hungry," he says doubtfully. But he hopes his stomach won't give him away at an inopportune moment – he doesn't like to think how Kamenashi will react if he figures out that Jin wouldn't take his precious generosity; what sort of little demonstration that might prompt.

"I won't finish this anyway," Kamenashi says. "The portions are very large for this time of night." He pushes the bread basket over, too.

Maybe wiser just to accept. Prevent unpleasantness. A slice or two will tide him over. And Kamenashi seems eager for Jin to play along.

"Thank you," he gives in. "I'll just try one." He doesn't reach out for it until Kamenashi, stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork, nods.

He eats the bread, slowly and mindful of crumbs, and when Kamenashi is still not done, he takes a second slice. It washes down better with his tomato juice, and when he has finished and wiped his mouth, Kamenashi is pushing his cutlery together.

"This is always excellent here," he says.

Jin watches him lean back with his glass in his hand and his fingers restless on his napkin-covered thigh, and he's not sure what to say. He can't very well comment on the salad, or tell Kamenashi he enjoyed his slice of bread.

"The staff do their best," is what he settles on, and then _that_ is loaded too, coming out of his mouth, and he makes his face blank for the sneer or the invitation.

Kamenashi just nods and has some more water. He seems to be focussing on something invisible, and Jin's just thinking he can take all the time in the world for that when whatever it is... comes together, apparently, because Kamenashi turns to him, and there's— some kind of look, anyway.

For a bizarre moment, it reminds Jin of the way a first-time client checks him out; fleeting, uncertain of what he wants, uncertain of what's allowed, and Jin even remembers there's the standard advised smile-and-flirt and that thought is even weirder, and so he just averts his eyes and lets Kamenashi look until he's figured it out.

Doesn't take too long. Kamenashi stands, with contained movements, and when Jin makes himself look up, Kamenashi's gaze is withdrawn and unreadable. "It's getting late," he says. "Maybe we should start."

Sure. They really should. Better not to miss out.

And it's just sex and he can handle it, he handled all that other shit and he knows there's a limit to how bad it can get – and once they get it over with he'll maybe be able to go, but first he should maybe answer Kamenashi's fucking question.

He nods, and that seems to be fine.

Kamenashi switches off the TV, but doesn't wait for Jin or touch him, just goes over to the bed, sits down at the far end.

Jin gets up to follow. By the time he reaches the bed, Kamenashi has shuffled back, is leaning against the headboard.

Jin hesitates, but Kamenashi nods, tilts his head just so, and Jin perches on the side, well within reach. Normally, he'd ask the client what he wants. But he won't let Kamenashi fling that back at him, not unless he has to. And this seems to be a new game, a less obvious one, and he'll just wait; try to wait him out and not think himself into a frenzy while the wait goes on.

He stares at the vee of Kamenashi's robe, not asking. Waiting.

Then Kamenashi touches the edge of Jin's bathrobe, and he remembers not to suck in a breath. Remembers to look up, too, but Kamenashi is tracking the movements of his fingers, playing at the edge of the fabric. Not even a nudge.

"I can undress if you like," Jin says quietly, because he'll have to get up, because it's better to be sure.

Kamenashi withdraws his hand and nods. "That would be good."

So he does that; makes sure Kamenashi can touch him when he sits back down, makes sure he doesn't avoid Kamenashi's eyes, not unduly. He's used to being naked with Kamenashi still in fucking trousers and shoes, so Kamenashi can look him up and down a bit, can breathe in a little deeper, can put a hand on his thigh.

Can make him wait some more.

Light touch, travelling up. Jin holds still. His messy hair, hardly even damp now and maybe that— no. Kamenashi's fingers tickle on his neck, and Kamenashi's gaze gets darker, still unreadable. Fingers on Jin's mouth, endlessly fascinated and fine, _fine_ , okay.

He lets his lips part, gives no resistance, and he can feel it working for Kamenashi even with no other touch. Just that, soft pressure on his mouth, and quiet contemplation.

Working his way towards another blow job maybe, unless he wants his fingers wet to— but maybe not, he looks quite settled there and that would be difficult, at least in any position Jin cares to contemplate and—

Okay, waiting no good, too much time to imagine things, worse than the real thing maybe... hopefully... and maybe he'll ask after all, and he takes a breath—

—and doesn't. He can't; it doesn't matter what's going to happen, but thinking of begging for it makes him all woolly-brained and jittery.

He'll wait. Let Kamenashi figure things out for himself, he'll deal, or he can just keep sitting here like a fucking museum piece while Kamenashi's fingers drift aimlessly over his face, and maybe the man will fall asleep.

For long minutes it looks like that's what's going to happen, the touch is so slow, soft along his shoulder, out and back and not even pressure on his throat, not even a hint. Then Kamenashi drops his hand.

"Are you going to make an effort at all?"

Jin blinks. Not like Kamenashi, to want autonomous moves from him.

"What..." he starts, but no, _no_. "Would you like me to do it with my mouth?" That seems a reasonably safe bet.

Kamenashi takes a deep breath. "I'm a bit tired now," he says, and the way he fusses with the hair that's falling into his face doesn't cover the edge in his voice. "It would be nice if I didn't have to do everything for a change."

Jin tries to think fast, because Kamenashi's mellow seems to be fading and he really doesn't want that either. "What... where should I start?"

"Where _do_ you start?" Kamenashi asks back, and oh, fuck, here it— "You must know how to seduce a client."

That... okay. Right.

"I'm sure you can make it good for me. You must have done this before."

Not often, he doesn't tend to get the reticent guys, and Kamenashi— Jin's never had to seduce a guy who starts wanting to tie you up if you move just a finger wrong. What does Kamenashi even like that doesn't involve some fucked up power trip?

He hates asking another question, Kamenashi's patience seems to be wearing thin, but he needs _some_ sort of idea. "Is there anything I should avoid doing?"

Kamenashi moves his head, a tiny shake. "I'll let you know if I don't like something."

No doubt.

And it's time to start, and where _do_ you start... God. He doesn't dare more questions, not this time, and he's not sure how Kamenashi feels about kissing but how else do you start when you're being slow and gentle... and he can move slowly, shifting up, leaning in with enough time for Kamenashi to see where he's going. A pause, so Kamenashi can stop him before he makes a mistake.

Kamenashi watches as he comes close, looks affirming, almost, and then he lets his head sink back against the wall, and closes his eyes, lips going soft and... okay. _Okay_.

First slow brush; Jin tastes a hint of lemon, fading when Kamenashi's lips open softly.

Okay. He can do this.

He keeps it slow, too, cautious. Safe.

Is aware of how cold his nervous fingers must feel on warm skin when he dares to touch the vee of Kamenashi's bathrobe.

Slow, and a little awkward. All that worrying between what's enough and what's too much, and where he's going to trip one of Kamenashi's fucking wires.

Then it stops. Kamenashi, breaking the kiss, not sharp, nothing harsh but Jin pulls back at once. He knows it wasn't great, can see it in Kamenashi's eyes that are... impatient, and awkward, too, but what was he supposed to do and he's not sure how bad it is until... Kamenashi tilts his head further, closes his eyes again. Moving them on.

It would be normal. It's what Jin would do, with someone not Kamenashi.

Better not make Kamenashi wait.

He starts with a light kiss, low on Kamenashi's neck.

Kamenashi smells like bath and warm freshness. Jin listens for signals when he can't see his face anymore, can only feel pulse, little reactions when he adds more firmness, remembers to touch.

Kamenashi hangs back, says nothing, quiet against the headboard. Lets Jin find out by himself. He likes some tongue, Jin learns; likes the stronger, wetter kisses. Doesn't mind when Jin has to shift his balance, crouch over Kamenashi for reach. Every time he feels like he's looming, but every time it's okay, nothing that blows up in his face, just Kamenashi's breaths deepening, his skin heating up under Jin's lips.

Until he feels movement and it freezes him _cold_. Kamenashi's arm coming up, slowly but—

—but that's okay, that's good, he _wants_ Kamenashi to move, he could do with some cues here and—

His hair; very light. Very different. He waits if there'll be a push. If there'll be anything.

It's not stroking; it's too awkward for that, but it's not harsh either. Jin brushes his lips along, smooth skin and the tingle of Kamenashi's fingers, and there's another soft breath.

Still doing well, for now.

So he puts his hand on the knot of the bathrobe. Waits. Waits until he's really sure, waits until a tiny shift tells him that waiting longer would be worse than getting on with it.

He holds his breath while he does it, no rush but he doesn't stop, either, wants it done, breathes again when the knot has come loose without problems and he's carefully moved the layers apart and Kamenashi is open, bare, and the skies haven't fallen.

Kamenashi is a little hard, nothing ready or urgent. But Jin knew this would last a while.

No cue, but this... he starts again, turns downwards. Kamenashi's belly, tightening once from the brush of Jin's hair, tension that fades as he nuzzles along, signals where he's going...

A hand drops on his shoulder, a light touch, sign to stop.

"Not yet," Kamenashi says, the words startling, louder than they probably are because there's been silence for so long.

Jin gives a little nod, starts back up at once, to show he's got it, he can do this any way Kamenashi wants. Only it would really help if—

"One moment," Kamenashi says, and Jin raises his head. Looks biddable and composed, he hopes, and wonders what he's done wrong now.

But Kamenashi simply wriggles the bathrobe out from under his back, and Jin gets out of the way quickly when Kamenashi shifts and shuffles a bit, to lie down properly at last.

That's... surprisingly helpful. It must have been getting uncomfortable up there.

A small nod invites him back, and Jin lowers himself alongside Kamenashi, careful not to lean too much.

Resumes.

It's better like this, a little more comfortable for Jin too. Not that comfortable is the point. But it's better.

Working, too; he can feel it in Kamenashi's breathing, the hands that find his back, his shoulders, light and hazy, nudging him on.

Can feel it more when he dips his tongue down, to see what Kamenashi thinks about nipples, and there's a shiver; a first buck of Kamenashi's hips when he closes his mouth around a nipple and sucks.

Responsive there, though they're so tiny. That would be interesting if Jin didn't have other things to worry about, and god, he keeps forgetting about his hands but he can't _judge_ two things at once...

He lets his palm travel aimlessly, tries to remember. Kamenashi's responding, little gasps and twitches that at least say he's doing something right.

Hips moving, too, restrained but noticeable, and Jin feels the hands slide lower on his back, a little pull that may or may not be on purpose, and Kamenashi's thigh flexing, almost seeking...

Okay. Okay. All normal stuff, just Kamenashi wanting more pressure, getting turned on, which is good; which is the point here. Jin stretches out, takes his weight on his elbow so he can take it slow, sliding his leg over Kamenashi's. Kamenashi can just lift a knee or something if that's not what he means, please, and then Kamenashi is looking at him, focusing and _oh god_ —

Jin holds his weight, weird and unsteady but he's not moving a _blink,_ until Kamenashi's eyes close. His hands slip down to Jin's flanks, saying it's okay, settling him, and Jin hides his relief in a line of considered kisses.

And on.

It's slow, and it's freaky because it's almost not weird. It's like foreplay, like working on a guy who likes to touch him, who likes his body and who likes it slow and gentle. Only it's Kamenashi, and it's freaky, and he's got to remember that any moment this could go wrong.

For however long, it doesn't.

No rush, from nobody. Just touching. Lips and hands, he tries to remember, and Kamenashi's getting harder. A good while in and there's a push at Jin's hips, seeking, like he's ready...

With any other guy Jin would know he's ready. Would know he can't want Jin up here much longer, it already feels like forever. Would maybe ask, if it's time, if 'not yet' still applies, half an hour later...

He wants to ask, wants to be sure, but Kamenashi's so easy now, almost relaxed, and getting him to focus could be worse, and Kamenashi didn't want to be bothered...

So Jin runs his hand down slowly, so slowly; stalling at the belly button. But then he doesn't lift off at the end, keeps going, fingers skimming over coarse hair and down, to rest lightly on Kamenashi's half-filled cock.

He waits, ready to pull back at any moment.

Kamenashi's thighs shift, part, just a little more, just enough to let Jin know this is okay, it's welcome, Jin didn't fuck up.

He only realizes he's been holding his breath when he feels a bit dizzy on the exhale.

At least now he's got something else to do. Knows he's getting somewhere, even if it takes another eternity.

He keeps it slow, nothing too intentional; careful not to look like he's rushing. Just a few light strokes now, and moving on, variety... he knows how much time they've got. Way too much time.

Kamenashi's thighs are firm and strong where he touches them first. Not what he's used to from clients, but then none of this is. The inside is warm, soft, and he's careful not to tickle, and Kamenashi sighs a little and makes more room for him.

More pressure on his back, rising and fading with the circle of Jin's hand, down and up, again, and when Jin's used to it, when he seems to have it right and safe, he adds in kisses again where he can reach.

Little huffs of breath into his hair, and Kamenashi's getting sweaty under him, rising when Jin touches his cock more firmly. Enjoying himself. Pushing more against the weight of Jin's leg, and his thighs spread further when Jin slides his fingers up between them, almost like he— oh. Oh shit, not that.

He skips back to Kamenashi's cock, because he's been doing good there, because he doesn't have to _think_ for that, he needs to buy time.

Fucking's harder than being fucked with the best of clients. Much more chance of getting something wrong, and he really doesn't need to get things wrong with _this_ guy. This guy, who's raising his hips again the next time Jin trails up, somewhere between dreamy and intent, and this... looks like that, looks exactly like Tatsuya said, about the mood and the slow and the fucking _not saying anything_ , too.

Fuck.

One more round, he needs to think and be sure and he hopes there's no hurry – no, there isn't, _he likes it really slow_ , thank you Tatsuya – and...

Fuck.

He'd thought he had a chance there, for a moment, a chance to get this done without more freak-out shit, but he just _knows_ this is going to suck, and god, he's not even sure he can get it up. Maybe they can skip to whatever humiliation ritual he's going to earn himself straight away, save time.

And maybe he should stop delaying, he's just making it worse— and he glances cautiously at Kamenashi and realizes he hasn't even noticed, is still getting into his little rhythm and presumably expecting something to happen here and— okay. Okay, whatever.

Next time he's stroking up the inside of Kamenashi's thigh he doesn't stop. Takes the soft curve to the back, slow; keeps going, even slower until he's stroking along where— okay, if Kamenashi wants more he'll have help, give more room, and Kamenashi shifts and Jin stares at his closed eyes, feels the air around him like a hot urgent weight.

And Kamenashi's _making_ room, a lazy sprawl of his thighs, and Jin makes his thumb move on and then he stops cold because Kamenashi's eyes have come open.

"Not that."

Oh fuck. And that worry was nothing, nothing to what he feels when he tries to read Kamenashi's eyes and _can't_ , and he remembers to snatch his hand away and oh, fuck.

He waits; feels like pins and needles wherever he's touching Kamenashi but he can't just pull away, either, and of _course_ Kamenashi doesn't want that, he probably wants... maybe Jin should...

It's only when Kamenashi reaches for his arm that he realises he's been holding it, frozen, over Kamenashi's hip. Kamenashi's hand is firm on his, guiding it down. "Keep going there," he says in a low voice, looking settled even though he's still watching Jin. That touch stays for Jin's first hesitant movements. Jin doesn't even want it gone.

Doing well here, he tells himself, picking back up, sorting out his hands and his leg and what he should be doing with his mouth, and fine.

But he's lost the plot, he can feel it, and he doesn't know where it's going anymore. Even at this pace Kamenashi doesn't seem like the cosy hand job kind of guy, and Kamenashi's hard now, those thrusts of his more purposeful, and Jin knows he's fumbling. Whatever Kamenashi's looking for, he's not getting it, and there's only so much patience Jin can expect.

He slows down the aimless blundering, gives Kamenashi notice he's not sticking to the script here so he won't surprise him. And even then, he has to swallow before he asks, but it's better than fucking up like that again, he can't _do this_ when he's panicking too much to think.

"What do you want me to do?" He knows he sounds weak, but Kamenashi won't mind that, all part of the fun, maybe Jin's doing especially well now; and if that frown is any indication, the way Kamenashi seems to come awake to think, watch him, like he's waiting... fine, okay, whatever. He knew this, it's not going to kill him, and he still doesn't know what the _right_ answer is here but those don't pay off anyway, not really, and if he just tries, if he just gets his voice to work again...

"I like it any way you want to do it," he starts, and doesn't think, tries to not even listen. "If you want to fuck my mouth, or if you—"

He can _hear_ Kamenashi's breath, sees his eyes go dark for a second, and Jin shuts up, shuts down.

"That's not necessary."

 _What_ isn't necessary, and what's Jin supposed to _do_ – because he felt it, there where he's touching Kamenashi; Kamenashi _likes_ the idea or likes to hear the words, and he definitely likes Jin's mouth from the way he's staring at it, so _what_ —

Jin stays silent. He's asked already, and his back is prickling with nervous sweat and he can see Kamenashi swallow, can see him _think_ ,and Jin can't see what the guy's problem is, he should be pleased for once, Jin's not even putting up a fight.

"I..." Kamenashi isn't moving either. "Let's not do it like that," he says finally, with a weird quiet undertone, and he lowers his eyes, to stare along Jin's body or because sleepy is the new black, or whatever the fuck it all means. "I don't need to hear..." A deep breath, and a little shrug that cracks their stillness. "Not that," Kamenashi finishes, vaguely, and Jin can't figure any of this out but there's a clue right here, and maybe...

"What do you want me to say?" he tries, because maybe he wasn't wrong, maybe he does have a chance if he gets it right and doesn't throw Kamenashi, and maybe he's just an idiot, but now he's hoping.

Kamenashi's hand moves distractedly on his back, but he doesn't have to think that long this time. "Nothing like that," he says, and then he's frowning again, thinking.

Nothing like that. Not begging, not letting Kamenashi creep into his head while his fingers... Not that.

That works. Kamenashi can take his time coming up with what he wants instead, that works for Jin, and for now asking seems to work too, seems to be going well even, and with any other client now would be the time...

"What would you like to do?" There, it's not a presumptuous question.

More of the vague touching, like he's not even aware he's doing it. Kamenashi meets his eyes, looks nothing but thoughtful. Jin holds still, lets him figure out whatever he needs to figure out.

He tenses when Kamenashi's leg presses up against him a little, but it's not to push him off, just Kamenashi coming out of his trance, and now his hand at the small of Jin's back is stronger again.

"I want to fuck you," he says eventually, blinking down, and... that's fine, that's great, that's _useful_.

Jin nods, makes sure Kamenashi sees it. Kamenashi's hard enough, too, so Jin shifts his weight to signal he's ready to get into position... only Kamenashi isn't moving; seems contemplative, a little withdrawn. Jin's seen that before on him, but _after_ sex, after he's done with Jin.

So he asks, and he's almost not nervous. "Do you want to stay like this?"

Kamenashi looks at him, and down again, letting go of a long breath, letting his hand brush on, lightly. "Yes."

Yeah, that works. Different, for Kamenashi, but then that's the theme here, and Jin can make it work, it's okay, it's fine. "Yeah." He nods again, and after a moment, Kamenashi's hands slide off him, to the mattress.

Jin lifts his leg off Kamenashi, pulls away a little, that odd but normal sensation of sweaty skin separating, and tries to stretch up to the nightstand without a fuss.

He reaches into the drawer blind, two condoms one lube, pulls back and sits up on his knees, carefully, slowly. Kamenashi holds out a hand and Jin places a condom sachet into it, glad he won't have to deal with that.

"Should I—" he says, and drops his gaze over to the other side of Kamenashi's body.

Kamenashi looks up from a little struggle with the condom pack. "Go ahead."

So Jin levers himself up and puts one knee down cautiously on the far side. He doesn't let himself sink down, will stay upright, no need to get comfortable. He wishes, briefly, that the fact that he isn't aroused weren't quite so evident, but there's nothing he can do about that, it's not like the weird games are _his_ thing.

Kamenashi, though, is plenty turned on now and he rolls the condom on with assured fingers, a quick wipe on the sheet after. Jin's about to hand him the lube and Kamenashi is about to take it when... Jin doesn't even know where it comes from. "I could put that on for you."

Reflex. They get told to offer that, that clients like that, normal clients. Training kicking in. Which is bad, he shouldn't get confused about this and normal.

But Kamenashi's nodding, and saying, "That would be nice," and okay, good call for once. Jin shuffles backward a little and lets himself sink back after all, cautiously on top of Kamenashi's thighs.

The lube's cool in his palm and he warms it for a moment, then he reaches out, and he should have warmed it more because Kamenashi's cock in his hand is still so much hotter that he's just waiting for the flak.

Kamenashi closes his eyes and gives a little sigh. Pushes up into Jin's slick fist, easily, then a little harder.

Okay.

Jin concentrates on nothing but that, the right rhythm, the right pressure, the slick push that gets thicker and sharper.

He doesn't look anywhere else.

He knows when it's time, when more would be too much, and he's just asking himself if Kamenashi knows it too or if he'll have to say something, to actually stop, when Kamenashi's hips slow, still.

"I think..." Kamenashi says, sounding breathless.

Jin nods. Moves up to position himself right, guides Kamenashi's cock with his hand. He straightens up when the first tricky stretch is done. Easy from here.

He takes it slow as he sinks further – Kamenashi can make his own rhythm if he wants something different, or reach out and push Jin down.

Kamenashi doesn't do any of that. Jin looks for cues but Kamenashi's attention is elsewhere, he's watching where they come together, and then his eyes flutter closed when Jin is down.

For a moment they just... stay. Kamenashi breathing quietly, tongue flicking over his lips once as he concentrates, and Jin holds still, waits for what's next.

He kind of likes it like this, normally. They watch him, sure, get a really good look, but it's different from when he's staring up on his back. He can speed it up, or slow it down, find out what works for the guys who don't feel a need to control his every move.

Nothing happens. And Jin thinks of what Kamenashi's said, and what he's been wanting, and he thinks one more moment before he finds his balance and tries an experimental lift; watches Kamenashi closely, sees the little stutter. So that's all right, it's what he's meant to be doing. He sinks back down, does it again.

He sees it when Kamenashi's hands skate over the sheets, find Jin's thighs, and he goes very pliant, gets ready for a cue, but then they're just... there, warm and approving.

It's almost normal; almost relaxed. Almost like doing a guy who's not going to spring crazy shit on you at the drop of a hat.

Almost; Jin's still waiting anyway.

He keeps it steady, the glide all the way up, sinking back down. He even gets used to the hands, relaxed on his thighs, nails perfectly manicured just like Jin's, and for a moment he imagines the club's favourite beautician doing film stars on Wednesdays.

Focus. He can't afford to get distracted.

He goes far up; he would, with someone else, to make it good, and Kamenashi's hands tighten but in the good way, too, and Kamenashi opens his eyes. Watches Jin, hazy and softer than usual, gets his nice view, and Jin keeps his chin down and his thighs working, and Kamenashi's eyes drift closed again.

Maybe that's what the other guys see, maybe that's why nobody believes him; just a guy blissed out on fucking, lying back like he's easy-going, like he can allow his whore some initiative.

Like watching is all he wants. Because he sure likes that – he's opened his eyes again as Jin takes him deep after the last lift, and this time Kamenashi's eyes stay open as he rises, focusing through the haze, and Jin feels that familiar sinking feeling, only not quite so fast this time, not such a nauseous rush.

"Is anything wrong?" he asks quietly, hovering where he is, and Kamenashi bites his lip again and blinks once before his eyes clear.

"What about you?" Kamenashi says, and Jin blinks. It didn't sound sharp, not dangerous, but not half as fuzzy as the rest of what Kamenashi has said in the last hour, and Jin doesn't even know what he _means_.

"About me...?"

Kamenashi nods briefly towards Jin's groin. "Are you going to..."

Oh, _right_.

And oh, fuck, he really doesn't need Kamenashi flipping his lid at this stage because Jin's not faking it well enough. Not _into_ him properly like his other whores and, well, maybe he shouldn't go around being a creepy asshole at people then... and Kamenashi's hands aren't moving, and he's waiting, with a little frown and that question still unanswered and...

It's not like Jin can just say no. It's not like it's _ever_ about what he wants.

"Would you like me to?"

He could manage, probably, if he works at it. If he gets some _time_ and Kamenashi doesn't freak him the fuck out.

Kamenashi's gaze shifts and he's still worrying his lip; finally there's a little shrug. "Would be nice." A brush of his fingers and Jin does not flinch; a rise of Kamenashi's hips, small thrust from below, moving again, moving on.

Jin moves on, too, can't decline the invitation. Can't decline any invitation, and Kamenashi's gaze flows over him again, and okay, he can get it done, he can—

"But either way works," Kamenashi says, quietly, a turn of his head that almost feels like a shrug, and he's closing his eyes, and... what?

It takes Jin a moment to process, enough so that they're back in the flow of rise, fall, rise, and Jin almost... almost wants to take him up on it, it would be so much easier. Just get Kamenashi ready and get him off and be done with it, but how do you know Kamenashi means it? Won't turn around and feel unappreciated, won't flip his shit and insist, or insist on other things he can dream up that Jin can't anticipate.

Better be safe. Better give Kamenashi his show.

He takes himself in hand, tries a first cautious pull, careful not to fuck up the rhythm of Kamenashi thrusting up, into him. He managed to come in Kamenashi's apartment, with a bunch of fucking _ties_ waiting for him. He can get this done, too.

And that helps, suddenly, just the thought, that it's been worse; and Kamenashi's easy now, focused on himself, steady. It helps.

By the time Kamenashi looks up next, he's got himself hard. There's no comment, just an appreciative lingering, and Jin strokes himself again, shows that he's following through.

It hardly registers as pleasure, as anything; it's just physical, buttons he pushes, and when he doesn't have to worry so fucking much he can tune it out like always, just do the job.

Do it quickly, because there's not much he can do for Kamenashi like this, just let him thrust and go with it, and those thrusts have gotten less focused, it's like he's waiting, watching and waiting and giving him _room_ to do it, and Jin's not going to get out of here before Kamenashi has got off, too, and this will help, Kamenashi wants to see...

He closes his eyes, lets his head fall back, doesn't _care_ about the watching, he'll do it the way it works best and this is it – find a tune, find a rhythm, and just go.

Only he _can't_ because Kamenashi's hands are moving on his thighs, and he feels another cold rush that he got it wrong, or did it wrong, until he gets that it's just... mellow, and when he risks a glance Kamenashi is still watching, eyes heavy, lips parted with arousal.

Fine, then, and he doesn't think about how much Kamenashi acting like a simple fucking _client_ can throw him; just starts over.

And thank fuck the hands stop moving even though they stay, he feels them every time his body moves to the restrained jerk of Kamenashi's hips, every time he thrusts his dick through his fist, and okay, okay if they're just lying there, just like before, he can work with that, and he gets the tune back that matches the rhythm and goes for it, and it takes forever but there's no more distractions and at last the heat floods through him.

He tries not to shudder while it happens, keeps his mouth tight and silent and even tries to keep the rhythm going but he can't, not quite, and for a weak wired moment he feels terribly naked, with Kamenashi fucking him and his skin thin and exposed and it's not just any client, it's _not_ , and when he gets back with the program the first thing he feels are the hands, still there, not doing anything. And then, he looks at Kamenashi.

A half-smile, or something; something unaware, nothing mean or smug, and that's something at least. "Nice," he says, a little raspy, and yeah, Jin thinks fuzzily, he said it would be.

And another moment, a shuddering breath from Kamenashi, before Jin remembers the objective here and gets some control back over his legs. Would help if they didn't have to take all his weight. Would help if he stopped feeling shivery, right the fuck now.

They're slow to get going again. Kamenashi lets him find himself, stabilize, and it's only once he's got it together that the jerks get harder, that he gets to feel how tight Kamenashi is wound by now. He speeds up. Kamenashi's eyes are closed again and he's sweaty, shining, showing the strain. A frown on his face as he's chasing sensations, and his stomach tightens sharp and visible, over and over.

Not long now, and this isn't bad, he likes it better once the clients get more into it, stop watching and directing; and it even works with Kamenashi, who's not so scary when he's getting lost, forgetting some of that close control, when the hands on Jin's hips just work to _show_ him as Kamenashi gets more demanding, about rhythm, angle, depth, takes what he needs... it's different from the other times somehow but Jin stops wondering, just goes with the pace, lets Kamenashi's hands move him. He keeps his eyes on Kamenashi's flushed lips, the way his tongue flicks them wet every few fast breaths; on the damp brown strands that get stuck to his forehead and on the little frown line between Kamenashi's eyes; and he can tell Kamenashi is about to come a split second before he feels it.

Kamenashi's not noisy, not like some; just that tight little sound that Jin's come to know, that _hard_ grip on his hips which relaxes instantly, and then the last slowing strokes, Kamenashi coming to a rest. Breathing.

Opening his eyes, and Jin's just finished thinking that at least that's done, and then not thinking is better.

Not thinking about what's next, about having no _idea_ what's next, and how much longer.

This night's been so long already. And he's just come, and it was easy for a while, just long enough to make it harder when he has to pull all the pieces together, and get ready for stuff, and he's so tired.

Kamenashi pulls back his hands, nods a little, and good, at least that's cleaning up sorted easily. He climbs off, slow and careful, and Kamenashi rolls up a bit on the other side to deal with things.

"Would you like me to get a wet cloth?" Jin asks, because many clients like that. Only Kamenashi has never hung around before, and he doesn't know how it's supposed to work just now, things aren't quite the same.

But Kamenashi just shakes his head as he sits up, takes another deep breath. "That's okay. I'll be taking a shower."

Jin could do with one, too, he's sweaty from coming and from worrying; not that he'll ask. At least Kamenashi cleaning up will give him ten safe minutes for sure.

It's quiet for a moment, and then Kamenashi swings his legs over the side of the bed. His hair is all messed up, a little damp, and he moves like he's still in a bit of a daze.

Good thing, that. Kamenashi can stay dull and muzzy right until he feels that it's bedtime.

"A drink?" Kamenashi asks, and Jin starts.

"I'll get you something," he says, quickly, belatedly, but Kamenashi is already getting to his feet.

"It's fine," he says. "Water?"

Jin should have done that, should have asked. Now all he can say is, "Yes, please," and watch Kamenashi pick two cool bottles out of the rack.

He brings them over in one hand.

"I could get you a glass. Ice," Jin says. "Lemon." He starts to feel even more stupid. The look that he gets along with his bottle is... long, kind of pensive, and he tries not to worry about it too much; and then Kamenashi gets back on the bed.

"It's fine," Kamenashi repeats, with only a little emphasis.

The mattress moves under Jin as Kamenashi gets comfortable against the headboard. Jin watches for cues, the bottle in both hands.

Eventually he remembers he might open it.

Kamenashi takes a long, deep swallow, leaning his head against the wall when he's done. Looking down his nose at Jin. Straightening up again, weirdly, pulling his sprawl in a little.

"That was..." But he trails off, and his focus wanders to the swirling water in his hand.

Please, god, not compliment time. Sure, this is when they do it, if they do it, but the thought that _Kamenashi_... Jin starts to feel vaguely hysterical. He sips at his water, nice and cooling while he keeps his eyes down, and Kamenashi doesn't finish his sentence.

They drink some more water. Kamenashi caps his bottle, leans it against his thigh.

"It got pretty late," he says next. Picks the bottle back up.

Jin keeps his face blank, tries not to get his hopes up that this means anything. "Yes," he agrees.

Kamenashi screws the cap off again. "Well, it's Friday."

Kamenashi knows the days of the week, good for him. But yeah, it's Friday. Late nights quite common, lounge probably still busy, good thing if you don't have to get up in the morning, but weekends are for fun, right? Not that he has a clue what days Kamenashi has to get up when. Not that he cares. Not that Jin's going to say any of that anyway.

Maybe he could mention that weather report.

"So," Kamenashi says, after another sip from his bottle. "Looks like the fine weather is holding."

Jin chokes on his own sip, his hand flying to his mouth in panic. At least it was just a little and he didn't spray any on Kamenashi, it's not even dripping past his palm much, and the cough hides the fact that hysteria is getting the better of him after all.

"Are you all right?" Kamenashi says, and Jin can't hear, can't tell if there's suspicion in his voice, so he nods and makes sure to keep coughing until he _knows_ it can't look like anything else, and then he looks up.

"I'm very sorry. I was drinking too fast."

Kamenashi studies him for a moment. Jin tries for apologetic, earnest, innocent, all wrapped in one submissive package, and it probably helps that he's worried, too, he's been letting himself get careless, he's got to _watch_ it.

So Kamenashi wants to talk. It's been a while since they tried that, and Jin doesn't like the memory much. But if he ignores Kamenashi's conversational advances, he's definitely in trouble; if he responds, only maybe, and Kamenashi is conveniently staying on generalities, the safe stuff. Jin can try this one.

He waits out the last of the scratchy hoarseness, clears his throat. Kamenashi glances over, but there's no reprimand.

"Will you be filming outside then?" he tries, and his heart gives an unpleasant little skip when Kamenashi looks puzzled. "I mean, with the weather," he adds quickly. Surely Kamenashi remembers mentioning the weather.

"Oh," Kamenashi says. And then he... seems to consider it. "Most of the outdoor scenes are done," he says eventually. "I don't think the rest depend on the weather. Though it's more pleasant to film when it's nice outside."

Jin isn't sure whether asking why would be logical, intrusive, or stupid. He's still trying to make up his mind when Kamenashi says, "So do you..."

No, Jin doesn't fuck clients outside. Even in fine weather.

Kamenashi seems to think better of it, too. "What do you like to do," he says, "when you have some free time?"

What?

As _if_.

The guy can't be fucking serious.

But... apparently he is, even if he's just staring down his knees, not at Jin, not making it an interrogation.

Well, fine, he's got an answer, the one he's got for guys who aren't even assholes, so that's convenient.

"I go to the gym." It's a good one, because he doesn't even enjoy it.

Kamenashi nods. "Yes." The bottle makes a random little circle. "There is one here, isn't there."

"Yes. It has good equipment."

More nodding, a little distracted. When Kamenashi brushes his hair back now, it sticks up funny. He wanted a shower. Probably wants it soon. "You have a very attractive body," he says. Says it first, then looks at Jin, as if to confirm.

Well, whatever. Compliments after all. Like Jin doesn't know his looks are what's kept him alive the last few years.

"Thank you," he says, and then it's quiet again. Kamenashi feels so far above him that flattery from Jin's side would just look like he's forgetting his place.

He wouldn't mind being a bit more comfortable, stretching out his legs maybe, but no way, not when he's caught himself slipping and _not_ when Kamenashi has just found his way back to the uses of Jin's body.

Which... okay, not even that creepy, and that discreet sideways glance would be polite enough with someone else, would bode well for the future. Would make Jin glad for a job well done.

"I enjoyed myself tonight," Kamenashi says eventually, though he doesn't sound it much. It's a serious business, pretending to be normal.

And now Jin's got a bit of a problem, because that one doesn't just go away, that's not talking down to the pretty little whore. That one wants an answer.

He wishes he weren't on a fucking _rest_. Wishes this couldn't go on for hours. Wishes the thought hadn't hit him just now, because he's crap at the faking shit at the best of times, and—

Kamenashi's looking at him again, with a closed expression that... An answer, any fucking answer that won't get him laughed at, or worse; and Kamenashi's gaze travels on, comes to rest on— He's still got come on his chest; his own now, and on his chest is just normal, not... and then the whole fucking evening comes down on him.

"Do you want to take a shower?" Kamenashi's voice sounds like it's three rooms away.

And that... god. It's not mean, Jin can tell as much; and it pulls him one way, but it also means he's going to _stay_ , be clean and well-scrubbed for... well, fuck.

"If you'd like that," he says. "I'd appreciate it." Some forward appreciation if he can't manage the other kind. Maybe they can at least keep this mood.

Kamenashi nods again, slowly; but then he waits. Jin waits, too. Kamenashi raises one shoulder, and his face is still closed. "Or would you prefer to leave?"

Leave.

"It's getting late," Kamenashi offers, and that's when Jin realizes he's been staring at him blankly.

"It..." He clears his throat, as quietly as he can. "It is, a little." Stalling. Thinking... he knows the polite thing to do, knows to find some flattering objection with his other clients, he's learned the words to tell them how much he's enjoying their company and their attentions until they kick him out because they're old, and tired from all the fucking.

But Kamenashi's not old and doesn't look very tired; he can play around if he wants to. And there's no way Jin can make himself come up with arguments to keep him here longer, even if he wanted, even if he could _think_ past the possibility that he might get out of here soon, _now_. He knows he doesn't act that well.

Kamenashi is still waiting. Maybe he's waiting to be amused by some inept acting or maybe he just wants an answer sometime this century.

And the first time Jin seemed to have any sort of choice tonight, it wasn't worth taking the chance, but for _this_...

"I am a little tired," he says, bland as he can because he doesn't want to say anything else by accident. As far as admissions go, that one should be safe. It's just logical, but if Kamenashi needs to put a particular spin on it, it can be that his virility wore Jin out.

Kamenashi nods, checks... how much water he's got in that bottle, right. "That's all right," he says. Bland, too, but that's good with this guy, that's excellent. Maybe he means it.

Jin clamps down on that thought fast; he's not yet out.

Kamenashi's next nod is in the direction of his own toes; then there's brief eye contact, but nothing Jin can read, can feel sure about.

"I'm quite..." Kamenashi stops, a little frown, and Jin's not going to freak. "It's fine. This..." Kamenashi consults his water bottle again. For a brief bizarre moment, Jin is curious how Kamenashi deals with Tatsuya after they've fucked. Then he's not; he just wants Kamenashi to finish whatever he's trying to say.

And Kamenashi's gaze comes back up, more decided. "It's enough, for tonight," he says.

He means it. Jin's almost positive.

"If you're sure," he says, still as bland, and reeling on the inside, but he can't _not_.

And then Kamenashi nods.

"Quite sure." He eases back against the headboard; Jin hadn't noticed before that he was this tense.

He gives a bow before he stands up. Makes sure not to rush; calm's the ticket, will get him dressed faster, out of here faster.

He picks his clothes up from the chair Kamenashi dropped them on, bows again. Kamenashi is fiddling with his bottle, hardly taking notice. It reminds Jin of the time after... after _that_ time. Maybe this is the Kamenashi version of post-coital, post-power trip bliss.

Not that Jin cares.

He does up all buttons, fixes the tie properly, runs his hands through his hair once and hopes he'll be lucky and not run into anyone in the corridors. He doesn't like walking around with the bed hair, but he likes being here with Kamenashi less. Not going to waste time on any non-essentials.

And then Kamenashi swings his legs sideways, brisk, full of purpose—

But all he does is walk to the bar.

Jin gets his jacket, and tries to ignore the pounding adrenaline. Nothing bad there. Just a drink. Booze again, but Jin's not going to be curious about that, either. He straightens up.

The door's just a couple of meters on Jin's left and he _feels_ the pull, and he just stands still, totally still, so he doesn't make a mistake.

For a few seconds, neither of them says anything. The dismissal isn't his part even with the sane ones, but Jin's just starting to wonder if it's up to him here when Kamenashi gives an awkward but final-looking roll of his shoulders. "Good night, then," he says, and steps back a little, as though he'd been in the way, which he wasn't, but it still helps.

More bowing. "Good night." Jin's voice feels weird in his throat. "Enjoy your stay."

Jacket, shoes; a final bow, and out.

He's barely pulled the door shut behind him – gently, quietly; is just about to take one deep breath and make a sprint for the stairs, when the elevator pings and its doors slide open. Just his luck.

Koichi, with KitaKen. They exchange bows, Jin's the deepest. When he comes up he barely catches an odd look on Koichi's face before he and his client walk past him in the direction of the standard rooms at the back.

The elevator door is still open, but Jin ignores it, takes the stairs. He's not going to be trapped _anywhere_ else tonight.

*~*~*

There's light in the break room and he doesn't care who it is, he's glad. Just someone to talk to, about normal things, while he remembers what normal feels like.

Junnosuke at the table. The TV is on but flickering silently behind him. He's got a cup of tea in front of him, a pizza box with two cold pieces pushed to one side, and his glasses on. He looks up at Jin and nods, keeping his finger on the page of the fat book in front of him. Then he scribbles something on a big sheet with lots of lines before sticking the pen in the book to keep his place when it falls closed. Level two accountancy.

"Hi," he says, and Jin says, "hi," back, and then it's weirdly awkward. Still finding his feet again with 'normal'. "Big book," Jin tries.

He's known that Junno is studying for some sort of accountancy diploma, only he doesn't usually do it here, and not at half past one in the morning.

Junno has noticed the way he's been staring at the figures. "I have an exam tomorrow," he says. "Nothing special, just— I want to do my best, right?"

Jin nods. Of course. It's Junno's ticket out of here, what he's saving the money for. Jin's saving too, even if he doesn't know what his ticket will be, but he'll need money for it in any case.

He's made a lot of money tonight.

"How come you're still here?" he says, turning to the cupboard where he stashed a few packs of instant ramen for the weekend craze. Junno always takes a taxi home; most of them do, but the luxury escorts can afford it even more.

"Exam hall's just ten minutes from here," Junno says. "It's at eleven, so I can cram a few hours here and still get some sleep. Hoped to have more time, but hey, comfort, a guy with all his teeth..." A shrug meaning, 'who turns that down?' When he reaches out to move the pizza box off the table to make room for Jin, Jin decides he's not in the mood for ramen, really.

"You don't want that?"

"Nah, got it an hour ago when I got out. It was crunchy before I started crunching numbers, but now..." He makes a face. "You want?"

They've got a microwave here. And there was a time when he ate them cold out of bins, so hey. "I'll take them. Beef, right?"

Junno nods, and Jin puts the pieces on one of the chipped restaurant plates, puts the microwave on for two.

"Who'd you have?" he asks, the hum of the microwave behind him.

"Nishikido," Junno says. "Not bad."

"I thought he'd taken a liking to Yuuya," Jin says thoughtfully, staring at the empty mug tray before he remembers the paper cups in the cupboard underneath. He catches Junno's curious look, adds, "Nishikido likes them cute and bouncy, huh?" Tries a smile.

Yuuya had liked him, too. So had Jin, really, but he's not holding his breath for any regular repeats. Not winning in the cute and bouncy sweepstakes, and all that.

"He came in kind of late, must have been ten already," Junno says. "I don't think Yuuya was around. Guess he found someone."

Yeah. Found someone. God.

But Yuuya's okay, he's bound to be. Thank god Kamenashi— thank god Yuuya didn't have to stick around.

"Who did you have?" Junno is asking. "You're up late."

"Kamenashi," Jin says, and nothing else.

"Hm. Hottie." Junno's pushed his book aside, too, and is now using a big ruler to draw lots of lines on blank paper. "Likes them dark and brooding these days, huh?" He's smiling, nicely, because he's a nice guy and calling things as he sees them.

For a moment Jin considers saying something, just a little something about Kamenashi, hottie and sweet guy. But who knows what else he'd end up saying, and it's not Junno's problem. "I don't think he likes me," is all he says, and then the microwave pings.

He sits down in the armchair with his pizza slices, and just the smell makes him feel better already. They're limp and gross and just what he wants right now, and he's careful not to burn his tongue as he focuses on eating, letting Junno get back to his accountancy.

He tries not to think too much, and when he does, he thinks about the money thing. By now it helps.

Because that was a lot. More than he makes in a week sometimes. Ignore the weird shit and the stuff that really sucked, because all of this sucks, and that's about thirteen guys he doesn't have to blow, and suddenly he thinks of getting out of here thirteen blow jobs early, once he's finally saved enough, and the thought nearly makes him giggle, it sounds kind of funny.

He looks at Junno's long tidy scribbles on the wide sheet. It looks pretty intimidating. But it doesn't have to be that. There are other ways.

He finishes up the pizza, sits a moment and lets it settle. All over now. He won't have to... Kamenashi caught him off guard, dragging Yuuya into it, but that was chance. Nothing like that is going to go down again, Yuuya will watch out now.

He pours himself some cold lemon tea next, and Junno says thanks when he makes him another cup of the hot stuff. He's thirsty, dry by now under his clothes. It's an exhausting way of fucking, that. Not what he's come to expect from Kamenashi, but, well. Crazy guy. Good at unexpected.

But not some evil mastermind, he's _not_. Didn't seem at all mastermindy in the end. Seems there's a reason why they call it fucking your brains out.

At least Jin didn't have to fuck him. He gulps down the rest of his tea and tries not to shudder. No, that was... what it was, and probably the best Jin could hope for. He should be glad.

And he should get out of his stuff, and under the covers.

So he grabs what he needs from his locker, to head into the shower.

"Good luck with the exam," he says.

Junno gives him a little wave.

His shirt sticks a little when he takes it off, dumps it on the clean bathroom floor. Not a big deal, somehow, when Kamenashi was so different. He welcomes the hard spray that comes down on him anyway, and for a while he just lets that happen. Feels the warmth in strained muscles, the fatigue that he can safely allow now.

Exhausting, to be prepared for the worst any minute, for hours. Even if it doesn't happen... didn't, because Jin got it right somehow, followed the rules, figured out the cues well enough, eventually. And Kamenashi was okay about it even when it took him two tries.

He gets a large handful of shampoo, foams up his hair, and runs lather down his chest, getting rid of the last of the come. _Either way works._ What if he'd accepted that? Maybe Kamenashi meant it. He meant it in the end, about leaving. That was kind of nice of him, too.

"Fuck."

He didn't just think that. He didn't _mean_ that. He's not as stupid as that, he's just exhausted and not thinking straight. It's not nice, it's _normal_ for a guy to mean what he says unless he's a crazy domineering asshole who likes to jerk people around and humiliate them and make them ask nicely for it.

He's not going to buy into the mindgames, the— Fucking Kamenashi. He says it again, out loud, for good measure, and then he scrubs himself quickly and rinses his hair, and wraps himself very tightly in a towel, and doesn't give a shit his hair's going to look worse than ever, he's _done_ worrying for the night.

He doesn't think anything at all, then. Gets dressed in a t-shirt and boxers. Rolls out a futon, gets pillow and cover, slides inside after turning off the light. Done.

It's two in the morning, his first gig was at three in the afternoon, and now maybe he can sleep.

He rolls up on the side, closes his eyes, concentrates on nothing but darkness.

After a while, he turns over, tries it on that side.

Maybe not.

He just wants to sleep. Nothing but numb, fuzzy darkness to pull him under, and he's tired enough, just some focus... but he can't find it, between strands of Kamenashi here and worry for Yuuya there, and whenever he sinks down it gets swirly and messy...

So much stuff. So much... that happened. At least last time Kamenashi was a _consistent_ asshole.

Jin rolls on his back, bumps his head once against the futon in frustration, and then he blinks up at the grey shelter of the ceiling.

Kamenashi's up there, weird and wired, tight-lipped and sparing on the insults, this time.

So he can get it up and get off without the humiliation shit, apparently. Can have sex almost like a normal person if he wants to...

But Jin kind of knew that. Knew, because no _way_ does Kamenashi treat Tatsuya the way he treats Jin. Or Kimura-senpai. They wouldn't stand for it; Jin knows enough about Kimura at least to know that. Maybe it says something about him, maybe...

Did he do something?

Or is this another midlife crisis, Jin landed smack in the middle of it, and now Kamenashi couldn't fuck Tatsuya without calling him names, either, and maybe that's why he keeps coming back to Jin, because he knows he couldn't do that with anybody classy? Has to save it for the second-rate whores, the desperate ones or the really junior... Yuu-chan.

He has no idea why Kamenashi sent him away in the end. Or why he didn't pounce when Jin... Jin gave himself away, back there. He knows that. And it would have been _easy_ for Kamenashi to insist, put Yuu-chan in... the middle and, god, trust Kamenashi to stumble upon the one thing worse to contemplate than...

That.

Even now Jin feels dry and tight at the thought, swallowing in the darkness. He pulls the blanket around himself even though he's hot.

Not that it was like that, not exactly. They'd all taken their turn.

He feels sweaty again, sticky. Wishes he'd dried his hair.

Not the same. Not really, and he'd have gone with it, let Kamenashi put him in that place, better than the alternative, and he'd have hated it and Kamenashi would have _liked_ Jin hating it, so... why? Why call it off, just when Jin had given it up?

Maybe because he's a novice after all – at threesomes, or maybe Tatsuya's even right and he's new to the crazy, talented but new and he just didn't know what to do with those shining opportunities he'd landed himself. Lucky break. Taking it in the face was the better deal in the end. Kept Yuuya out of it, kept himself from being stuck between two guys even if they couldn't hurt him.

Great choices. Fucking Kamenashi.

Focus on the money. A month's rent and more, in under five hours. In a few months, he'll find a cheaper apartment. Save even more. It doesn't have to be fancy, and it won't belong to the club. Something small and clean, maybe a bit further out.

Not too far, though, still fairly close to the bar. Maybe Tomo can recommend something, knows somebody. Would be cool to be neighbours. He can ask about that, next Thursday, over a cheap beer while they listen to the other singers.

He wonders if Tomo will be doing the nice ballad from last time again, or whether he'll have the chords down for that bouncier one by then. They don't sound that hard, except where they do those fast funky modulations in the bridge...

*~*~*

A touch on his shoulder reaches through to him and a voice in his ear, light, and he doesn't panic, no threat here, just a soft voice in the dark, and eventually he's awake enough to hear words, 'Jin', 'senpai'.

He lifts his face up out of the pillow he's been... clutching, whoops; rolls over on his back slowly, says, "Hi." No idea what time it might be.

Yuuya is a fuzzy shape huddling next to his futon, and Jin blinks some more, gets some hair out of his face.

"I'm sorry," Yuuya says in a whisper, "I didn't want to wake you, but I just got out, and I didn't want to go home without... are you okay?"

It takes him a moment just to get it sorted, and then... god. Yuu-chan, worried about _him_. He doesn't even want to think about the different kinds of wrong.

He feels heavy when he pushes himself up, sits with his shoulders hunched but, right, sitting, and he can make out more of Yuuya's face now, see the worry there.

"I'm fine," he says. There's a dark lump at the other end of the room; Jin slept through anybody else coming in and doesn't know who it is, but it's obviously a sound sleeper. Jaejoong, maybe; he sends money back home, Jin knows that.

"Kamenashi..." Yuuya says, and he trails off, because they don't ask each other what went down with a guy, not like this, it's prying and they don't.

"I'm okay," Jin says. "It went all right."

Yuuya stares at him through the dark, with his hair tangled and sticking out, because he ran down straight from his client.

"Really." Jin nods because Yuuya will see that better than his face. "He chilled a lot," he says, and it's not exactly a lie. "I got out before two." Another truth. For somebody who's just woken up, he's doing well.

"I'm glad," Yuuya says. Jin can hear it even in his whisper, so he reaches out for a brief little hug that won't be weird for them.

"Don't worry about me," he says, and moves on quickly. "Who'd you get?"

"Some broker," Yuuya says. "Yokoyama."

Jaejoong is turning on his futon, an extended slow squirm, and they both fall silent. But there's no sound then, just regular breaths.

"Was it okay?" Jin asks, in an even lower voice. Yuuya could have done with an okay one after that, if it had to be anybody, if he couldn't just get the fuck home.

"Sure." Briefly, like it's normal, and Yuuya is staring at him again; Jin doesn't need to make out much to know that. "Kamenashi—"

"He didn't stay like that," Jin says quickly. "It was okay, too." In the end. He's not lying. It was. Almost normal. "Just..." He knows he's going to contradict himself, but this one is more important. "Stay away from him, okay?"

Another thing they don't do, a breach of etiquette, but Yuuya nods, slowly. "Are you going to come in tomorrow?" he whispers at last.

He doesn't want to think about tomorrow. About clients and the lounge. "Yeah, sure," he says, as confidently as you can be when you're trying not to wake up sleeping colleagues. "Saturday, right? I'll see you there?"

Yuuya nods again, some final hesitation, and Jin touches his arm very briefly, tells him good night. It's time Yuuya got home.

Jin stretches back out as he watches Yuuya's shadow sneak out, the door sliding shut on a glimmer of light and a blip of someone's hushed conversation.

Yuuya's okay. And there are guys out there, guys he knows.

And Kamenashi— It's true that in the last stretch he wasn't so bad. Not chilled, not exactly. Weird. Weird, and only bad because of what had come before, what Jin kept expecting.

He wiggles down in the cover, pulls it up to his nose. Sleep's still there, ready to pull him back, a nice warm weight.

Maybe Kamenashi can only be normal after a long run-up, once he's got his whores properly intimidated. Not that it's made a difference before.

It got different after the bath.

Maybe he should take those more often.

Or maybe Jin will just put the asshole out of his mind at last and sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

## Saturday 04 October

Whispers; little nudges, a peek over a raised shoulder, camouflaged as an idle sweep over the scenery. Discreet shuffling of feet, and a check; secret glances, and all the while there's a giggle underneath waiting to burst, smothered quickly when it does.

Kame looks down into his coffee mug, feels the heat on his hands, the uneasy swirl of strong coffee in a restless stomach.

"Do they think we can't see them?" Toyoda muses next to him. She's leaning back in the folding chair with her ankles crossed, a half-empty cup of decaf lightly in her hand. She's wearing a light, flowy dress with a fine flower print, and if you know it's there you can see the bump.

The conspiracy has found itself a pedestal. Kobi whispers something to Genda and the plastic cafeteria chair gets moved a few feet to the right while they keep an eye out for the director or the assistant director or whoever they think might scold them.

Toyoda is grinning as she watches the boys and their sneakiness. Sometimes, when she's not fretting, she reminds him a little of Midori, with her natural grace and her quiet humour. Normally that's a good association, just today… today he'd rather not think of Midori quite so much.

But it's good Toyoda's so relaxed. Kame was worried for her after he had to do the action scene with the stairs. It was hers originally, but, well, that's no longer safe. He thinks they made her come in to watch just to make a point. But she's handling it better now. He doesn't have to worry. Doesn't have to reassure her, can just sit quietly and drink his coffee and go through the lines in his head, nothing but his lines.

He smiles at the bunch, too, briefly, just so they know he's not going to pull rank or disapprove or even care. They're being kids with the big safety mat and it's none of his business.

The coffee's not sitting well with him today.

Some shoving and arm-thumping. Morioka is off doing a scene, which is good because Kame doesn't want to be asked about lunch, doesn't want to feel sad about lunch, doesn't want to see Morioka hiding his disappointment. But Morioka usually keeps them in check, makes sure they're not bounding around like kids just out of school.

Not that it's a problem. They're boys. This set can do with some cheerfulness.

He can't recall ever being this free on set when he was their age. Terrified, sometimes. Then professional.

Always professional.

Yuuya was worried.

The chair is put into place, tested for stability.

And then there's Matsura. Kame can watch her gear up at the coffee cart, the way she glances in his direction. Toyoda's face goes blank, friendly, neutral.

He watches the boys test their springboard. Eighteen going on twelve.

Yuuya's their age.

Matsura greets them with a sweet smile. "Are you all right, Kamenashi-san?" she asks then, looking at… his hand, right.

"I'm perfectly fine," he says. He bites back the impulse to flex his wrist as if he's got something to prove. "It's a very thick mat." There's a burping sound from the other end of the room where Genda has thrown himself into the mat from the white chair, and the boys giggle.

"Ah, yes," Matsura goes. "It's very impressive you do all your stunts yourself. A famous actor like you." She sips at her coffee shyly.

There had been talk of her getting thrown down the stairs instead of Toyoda; Iijima nibbled at the idea for a while. But it made no sense in plot terms to give that dramatic turn to the sister, and Kame said so to him.

"I don't do all my stunts myself," he says to Matsura now. "This one was close-up. And it was just a fall."

Matsura's eyes go big in continued admiration. "Yes, but still…"

"Excuse me," Kame says. "I have a new scene coming up and would like to concentrate on finding the mood. Maybe we could talk about stunts some other time?"

She's not so good an actress that he can't see the resentful blink. He doesn't really care. But after a moment she opts for friendliness, understanding, and then she's gone to pester someone else, whomever.

Toyoda gives him an awkward smile, and says nothing.

He puts his coffee on the ground because he's not going to finish it. He slept… all right, eventually. He slept enough. Skipped breakfast, because he wanted to get a move on, get out of there. The busy morning schedule, running through corridors and stunt work and dragging himself around on a fake limp until he felt his back ache from it was a perfect distraction.

The boys are trading fake blows, and Kobi throws himself into a high arch after a dramatic swing from one of the second-tier classmates. He bounces on the blue plastic, and what Kame catches of the expert comments that follow suggests he did it wrong.

Kame wipes his hand on dusty designer corduroy, looks away from them. He can't get Yuuya out of his head.

Yuuya, self-assured and easy-going, and he'd _liked_ Kame… and if he looked that thrown, that uncertain on the surface, Kame can only guess what he was feeling underneath his professional polish.

Jin didn't help. But Kame was the client. Was in charge, and responsible, and the one who came up with the idea in the first place, and he still doesn't know what on earth he hoped to accomplish by going off on a threesome with an eighteen-year-old _boy_.

He wishes the coffee didn't make him nauseous, wishes he had something to do with his hands. Wishes he knew better what is going on with him.

*~*~*

Morioka doesn't ask about lunch. That's a good thing; a thought he doesn't need distracting him when they go into afternoon filming, and Kame has a lot of inspirational lines to sell and kindness to spread in quiet little scenes while his mind gets stuck on the night before whenever the camera stops rolling.

Stuck on Yuuya, wide-eyed and trying to keep it all smooth when Kame finally noticed…

On Jin, hoarse and sweaty, choking on words that made him flush and come apart.

At least none of it is turning Kame on now.

"All right, that was good work. Can we try again? Faster rise from the chair, Toyoda-san, make it look a little more lively?"

Toyoda nods and sits back down, then rises with more intensity.

His line, the silent stare, and cut.

Again.

This take is fine. Someone brings him water, someone fusses with his hair. Someone brings Toyoda a different sweater to put on, for more contrast to Kame's washed-out suit.

He drinks his water and they leave him alone to concentrate.

It wasn't that odd. What he asked. It was a threesome, of course you might… involve more than one man at the same time, it can't be _that_ out there. But something took a bad turn and Kame didn't even see it, until Yuuya looked at him like that.

A bad turn, and he doesn't even know when.

How long did it take him to notice? Why would he even ask the boy along?

Or go with Jin, when he doesn't even want Jin.

Next it's stairs and hallways and a brooding look. His character has had a very bad day, and this is before he gets pushed down the stairs. Inspirational teachers have it hard.

Kame's got no problem with brooding, but with the lighting crew milling around in the narrow corridor he feels just a little trapped. The camera test for his face takes forever, until he can finally move.

But it's work, and it helps.

It helps until they get to the part where Morioka chases him; grabs him and confronts him and it's great, easy like always, and when the cut comes Morioka gives him a hesitant smile, and the thread of guilt pulls at him, sharp and insistent.

But this, at least, he knows is for the best. He disengages himself when Iijima calls the next break, claims some trouble with his next monologue that he has to straighten out. Morioka is professional about it.

Kame doesn't sit with Toyoda, either. Instead he finds himself a bench in a quiet corner where he can keep his mood and the embarrassed thoughts that are chasing each other in his head to himself and not bother the world.

He shouldn't have done that. Not because he wasn't allowed or it wasn't legal, but he shouldn't have let things spin out of control like that, should have seen things weren't going right. The club is more to him than a place to throw money around and get off, and he shouldn't have done that even if nobody saw, nobody but Jin, and Jin doesn't count because he never liked Kame, was judging him from the minute he saw him.

What… he doesn't know what this is. What is it, with Jin, with himself, that they always end up in a room together and it never feels right at the end.

He could get it elsewhere, if he felt like he needed it, new stuff and experiments. He's not naïve. But it's different with Jin. He doesn't know why Jin makes him want to insist, prove a point.

That second time was good, pleasant. Normal. He got it together after that free-fall moment, that _thing_ that happened when Jin had long given in, wouldn't have dared make the cutting remark that Kame could feel coming, and he doesn't understand it, he shouldn't even care. Let Jin think what he wants, let him look at him with those eyes and think Kame an idiot and a fake, and it doesn't have to matter, it doesn't have to lead to this weird, weird stuff that keeps happening between them and it's not as if he ever wanted to pay Souji back like that, would ever have treated him—

His mind goes utterly blank, spikes out on static.

So long ago.

So, so long ago. In a different life. He had a different life. And Souji was there.

Someone is calling his name. He has a take.

It was on set that they met. Souji held the microphone. He was so striking.

"Kamenashi-san, can you please go to stage seven, everybody else is ready."

Souji was there, and just now the arguments are gone, the fights and the nasty comments and the nights he didn't sleep because he could feel it slipping away; there's just Souji grinning up at him from the couch, strong arms sliding down his shoulders and a kiss he doesn't pay for; Souji coming towards him from the edge of the water, smiling, tall in the sunshine and Jin is in a towel and the room is dark and tight, and there's no smile at all, no air.

"Kamenashi-san!" It's a woman. Not Midori. Midori doesn't call him that now. It takes him a moment to place her face.

Assistant Director, impatient clipboard in her hand. Puzzled politeness. "Stage seven. We'd like to start. Is anything wrong?"

He finds the lie after a numb moment. He's very good at that. "Nothing," he says. "Nothing is wrong. I didn't hear you."

Gets up from the bench without feeling his legs, follows her without remembering her name. Knows his lines without thinking.

He has a take.

*~*~*

He fucks it up five, six times before Iijima decides it'll do. Then he has another break, another coffee and it makes him sick again.

Morioka nods at him and Kame just lets it pass, lets it die. It might be quiet on the set, or maybe he just can't hear. Maybe it's because the boys are still filming.

It's so hard to think. Hard to keep the images separate, everything is running into everything else, everything is bleeding.

He knows why he stopped thinking about Souji, the good and the bad; he wants to be angry at Jin for the flood of images that's pulsing through his mind, and he can't even sort it, doesn't know how he could be so _blind_ …

"Are you all right?" Toyoda, warmth in her voice but at arm's length, with room to breathe. That friendly concern and a sudden stability, but he's not going to marry her because of that—

And it's that bizarre little thought that wakes him up a bit, shakes the world into focus.

"I'm fine," he lies. He's just gone a little round the bend, seeing ghosts in a place where he wouldn't even be if it weren't for Souji. Ghosts, their slights and disapproval…

"You look a little out of sorts," Toyoda is saying, and then there's a familiar flash of guilt. "Are you sure you didn't hurt yourself on the stairs?"

Kame shakes his head, even produces a little laugh because the idea is so ridiculous. "I'm not hurt," he says. "I promise."

I've just been fucking this escort who looks like my ex-boyfriend, only I didn't even know it.

I nearly had sex with an eighteen-year-old I'm not even attracted to to get back at them.

It doesn't quite roll off the tongue.

"It's not really my day," he says with a self-deprecating shrug, and sees her relax. "That's all."

The thoughts are still there; memories so far gone they're almost new, a flickering fade over Jin's wary face, Kame's sharp commands and always that boiling anger.

Somehow he gets through the rest of the filming.

He gets to his car quickly when they're finished, finds a last smile for Toyoda, has his sunglasses already on when he passes Morioka and two of the boys having a smoke. No lifts, no discussions today.

Gets in the car, pulls out of the lot, and pulls up at the curb two blocks further when he realizes he has no idea where he's going.

Early night. Midori's not even going to be home yet. That could be useful, give him a chance to sort out his head and his face. Be ready not to jump at small noises. Be calm enough not to think she can read it all in his eyes.

Maybe he should go shopping on the way. Some designer coat, for the winter months, or an up-to-date sports bag.

Money is not an issue and Midori has never been controlling, but it helps to have an expensive hobby of some kind, the better to explain large items charged to his credit card by bland-sounding service providers. Kame spends a lot on property maintenance and likes to shop.

Then he thinks of throwing down three hundred thousand yen for a coat and driving home and having dinner with Midori like nothing ever happened; of fooling himself that no one knows he behaved poorly because nobody will remind him to his face – not Yuuya, who's scared of him now; certainly not Jin, who had his wrist slapped by the manager because Kame got so mad over some…

God. He fucked up so badly.

Kame pries his fingers off from around the steering wheel, wipes them again on his polo shirt, creased red cotton. They might not even let him through the door.

He takes a deep breath, and when he remembers his fancy car he turns down the temperature.

Of course they'll let him in.

He can't go home yet. He can't go home like this.

*~*~*

The drive to Ginza gives him plenty of time to get very nervous. But he doesn't try to tell himself it's all okay, because it's not, because it wasn't.

He parks his car in the secure underground lot. In the trunk, he's still got an all-purpose black emergency blazer. It's something, at least.

The giant bouncer gives him a brief once-over, which is telling enough. "Straight from work, Kamenashi-san?" he smiles.

"Just stopping by," Kame says, doesn't care what it sounds like. News will travel fast enough, but that's his own fault. Better not think about it. "I won't stay long."

For real this time. No detours, no further complications. Just make this better, as he should.

The bouncer nods understandingly, and then he's through, surrounded by familiar glitz and relaxed sounds of glasses and conversation, and everything about it feels loud.

He can't even take his jacket off to stay busy and get past the moment.

It's a light crowd, not yet as busy as it will be. Saturday. He doesn't want to run into anybody, be distracted, be stared at for his inappropriate get-up.

The concierge looks at him with courteous attention. Kame smiles briefly and gets his legs to move.

No Jin so far. Takuya-san in the far corner, laughing with someone and oh, please no. But Kame won't stay and they just talked the night before, they sat right there and had a nice chat before Kame lost his mind.

He doesn't focus on anyone else, doesn't want to recognize anybody. Just find Yuuya. Find him fast.

The boy is sitting with that history professor and… the chief prosecutor. Kame swallows. He remembers. But nothing happened there, that was just… impulsive and a little odd, nothing even close to the way Yuuya must have seen him…

Oh god.

But then he's reached their little group, five altogether with Junnosuke and Koichi, and once Kato-sensei is looking at him they're _all_ looking at him, and then he has to do it.

Yuuya's eyes are wide for a split second before they go flat, unreadable. He shows a polite little smile.

"Excuse me," Kame says, to Kato, to the professor, who is the one getting cozy with the boy. He bows. "I'm sorry for the interruption. I would like a brief word with Yuuya."

Yuuya's face doesn't change for moment, shows nothing like Jin's perpetual wariness, and Kame almost wishes for a reaction of some kind, something he can read and acknowledge.

"About a conversation we had the other day," he adds, even though the professor is nodding readily, smiling easy agreement. "I won't keep him long. I promise."

Yuuya rises slowly, acting pleasant and accommodating as always. It gives Kame a chill.

"I'll be right back," Yuuya says, eyes dropping to the professor with a perfect flirty pause. Kame nods, just to confirm, to be clear.

"Kamenashi-san?" He looks so young. And intentional as that is, a selling point in this place… he'd _never_ be Kame's type. He must have been out of his mind.

"Thank you for understanding," he says to all five of them, before he leads the way to… the concierge end of the bar, where it's empty. That looks like his best bet. Not a chance of going upstairs for this, says a hysterical voice in his head, and he clamps down on that before he can have any more crazy thoughts.

"I'm sorry I interrupted your conversation," he says when they stop. He doesn't look past the boy, doesn't think of wondering stares.

"Not at all." Yuuya looks calm, polite. Watchful.

Yes, expected. "I'm here about yesterday," he says. "About last night."

Yuuya says nothing. Now he doesn't feel like a kid at all, he feels like someone who knows things very, very well, and Kame's mouth is dry.

"I'm sorry about how the evening went," he says anyway, sees just a flicker of surprise but it's reined in quickly, covered. He goes on. "I wasn't handling all that very well and I made things uncomfortable. I'm sorry I made _you_ uncomfortable. I shouldn't have had the idea in the first place. I would like to apologize."

He bows, properly, because he means it.

He doesn't feel better once he's got it out there. It doesn't _feel better_ to see how much he's let himself be tricked by surface resemblance and long-forgotten memories.

But this is as much as he can do, except make sure Yuuya doesn't get in extra trouble over him.

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Kamenashi-san," Yuuya says, bowing in return. Still showing nothing when their eyes meet again.

"I hope the change in plans didn't get you criticized," Kame says.

"It was fine," Yuuya says, with another little bow. "Thank you for your concern."

And he looks up from Yuuya and just past the screens that lead the way upstairs there's Jin, staring at him, and the blow hits him as hard as all the others together.

It doesn't get better, knowing.

The eyes. The high forehead that always crinkled up when Souji was trying to be funny and dramatic. The way his jaw is setting, rigid, bracing for confrontation.

Not the same, he can even see that. Different, it's _good_ he can see that, and it's all wrong and weird.

It's not better just because he knows.

And there's still Yuuya, who hasn't noticed Kame's heart beating in his throat…

Or maybe he has and is keeping it all wrapped behind his friendly, professional shield…

"I'm going to talk to Ootomo-san and make sure there are no misunderstandings," he says, so this is clear and complete. He even sounds steady.

Yuuya smiles politely and indicates the concierge's desk with a subtle tilt of his head. "I'm sure he will have time for you."

"I hope so, too."

And that's that. He wasn't hoping for anything, not counting on anything.

"I'll let you get back to your guests then," he says, apologizing more fleetingly for the interruption, again, and Yuuya is courteous through goodbyes.

Ootomo, now.

Not looking for Jin. He's better off not looking.

It would be appropriate to tell him, too. He knows that.

Jin… didn't help, lacking smoothness and makings things personal, but he didn't set out to hurt Kame either or make him feel helpless and alone, he _couldn't_ , he's not even important enough. He isn't Souji, he's not even like him, and he can't help his looks.

Jin stayed with him for longer. Took more of the blame, and if _Yuuya_ was frightened…

He should at least explain, what it was all about, now that he knows at last.

But he can't do this now. The idea of going up to Jin, looking into his face…

He'll settle it with Ootomo, now. He can do that much. Do it without feeling like the ground is giving under his feet, without making any more of a fool of himself.

He turns away from Jin, from Jin's eyes. Concierge, and Ootomo.

It takes two brief, endless phone calls to get it sorted and get Kame announced upstairs.

He doesn't search for Jin in the crowd when they finally take him to the elevator.

*~*~*

He's better once the doors have closed on the lounge and they start moving. Better with every second he gets away from Jin and the ghosts, and the shuttered smile on Yuuya's face.

The attendant showing him upstairs is quiet. Not even a curious look. Maybe he wasn't around to see the conversation with Yuuya. Who knows. The club excels at discretion and invisibility.

At least he said it. He can't demand that the boy believes him, but if he can hope to show his face around here without feeling ashamed of himself, sometime in the near future, feel like he fits in here and like he's welcome, he'll count himself lucky.

He only falters for a moment when the door he's taken to is not Ootomo's, but the manager's office.

Like it's a big deal. Like it involves weighty matters.

Not so surprising, he reassures himself. Kame made it a big deal himself. And he didn't play it low key when Jin put a foot wrong back then; only fitting he ends up here for setting the record straight.

The attendant knocks for him, and then he's gestured through.

"Ah, Kamenashi-sama, good evening," Konoe greets him, rising from his chair. Ootomo is standing already, his usual effusive smile looking a little strained. His dark tie makes him look like an undertaker.

Kame bows as well. He knows that film stars as a breed traditionally get cut some slack in the scruffy department, yet he feels acutely underdressed.

Konoe is a polished man in his forties, with conservative but well-chosen attire and hair and a calm, self-assured personal style. Probably married with kids, somewhere. Not that that has to mean much.

Kame has always found him pleasant to talk to. He's courteous without fawning, and is gifted with the ability to speak about penetration and completion and which body parts can be involved in a relaxation without making you want to disappear into the ground.

But for once Kame would rather talk to Ootomo; Ootomo would be enough for his purpose and it wouldn't make Kame feel like he was on probation all over again.

He is gestured over to the modern-looking leather armchairs in smooth caramel; less opulence and coziness than downstairs, but still the same class of sophistication. And then they offer him tea.

Kame sits down and wills himself not to keep tugging at his jacket.

He's been in this office twice: the day of his first visit with Tanaka and again shortly after, to iron out confidentiality agreements and fake bills and credit card entries, the business side of things.

Konoe-san sits down opposite him, smiles, and Kame feels his palms go sweaty. He thinks of all the times he was at the club and everything was fine, relaxed and smooth, and surely one blip doesn't turn him into a weirdo.

One blip…

But that's not their business. They don't have to know about the strange nonsense in Kame's mind, just that nobody should be blamed for last night.

The tea is distributed. Ootomo sits down between the two of them, facing the wide window.

"Kamenashi-sama," Konoe starts, "what can we do for you?"

They've talked about much more delicate things, Kame wants to remind himself. Only not really, not things that were about _him_.

"I…" He produces a little smile, masks his mortification with a sheen of normal discomfort. It _is_ normal, nobody likes to talk about this sort of stuff. That's why these two guys are experts at putting the flustered customer ease.

"I had a double booking last night," he says eventually, to the manager. "Rather spontaneously." _Because an impulse ran away with me. Because I lost it._ He's flushing again and it's not for show. "Jin and Yuuya."

And he watches, for surprise, for concern; the manager must remember that phone call, must wonder, _why Jin again_ , why Jin all these times, and Kame wants to laugh and say he didn't even know himself.

Konoe merely nods, professional and unreadable. Ootomo briefed him. Of course.

Maybe the tea is a sign. One phone call from downstairs, Kamenashi on the way, imaginary problems again, maybe he needs soothing, maybe he needs a talking to.

"We did see that you cut the time with Yuuya short but stayed with Jin for a full rest," Ootomo is saying. "We hope there weren't any more problems?"

Problems.

Kame stares at the tea cup, the delicate wisps of steam rising.

He knows how Ootomo means it even if he doesn't remember the call he made exactly. It was blurry even at the time.

He can do things better now.

"No, nothing of the sort," he says. "That's why I'm here, actually."

Konoe looks benignly attentive.

Kame takes a deep breath. "I'm aware of how this could be taken. I am also aware that I over-reacted when Jin and I got off to a difficult start, and I would not like to get him in trouble again. I should like to stress that neither Yuuya nor Jin acted inappropriately in any way. They were both perfectly accommodating."

A look passes between them, brief and subtle.

Maybe they weren't told after all. Maybe it sounds strange all by itself, to have a client pre-emptively take the blame for something nobody even complained about.

But he didn't come because he got caught at something. He came for… so he doesn't fuck this up any further.

"Things were somewhat uncomfortable before I asked Yuuya to leave," he makes himself say, and at least he's thought about how to put it. "That was my fault. I didn't read the atmosphere very well. As you know, I…"

He falters when he hears how defensive he sounds, and Ootomo and Konoe aren't looking at each other now, aren't looking very carefully.

"I haven't done this before," he says. "It was a sudden idea and I didn't handle it very well. I felt a little overwhelmed."

Konoe is smiling again. And sure, this has to happen to other people. It has to.

"Not everything we experiment with in life is always to our liking," he says sympathetically.

Ootomo is making his most earnest understanding-and-not-at-all-judging face, which routinely fails to make anything less embarrassing.

"We sincerely hope none of our escorts made you feel awkward," he says with intrusive gravity. "Especially in light of…"

Kame shakes his head, and is glad that Ootomo doesn't finish his sentence, doesn't make him come up with justification for _why Jin_ , why Jin _again_ , because that one he didn't practice for.

"No, not at all," he says. He can hear his own voice sound dry. "In fact, I would very much like to pay for the full comfort with Yuuya regardless." It's not about money, he's not kidding himself. But at least this will be a tangible marker of what he wants to do here. "I would consider this fair, given that I disrupted his evening and let the encounter become difficult."

Konoe raises his eyebrows, all quiet consideration. "That is quite a lot of money," he observes. "For…" He looks at Ootomo.

"Light encounter," Ootomo supplies, in the sort of lowered tone that asks Kame to pretend he's not listening. "Less than a relaxation, easy downgrade. Yuuya clocked it in."

Of course. Yuuya must have explained why it wasn't a comfort after all; that he got out of there with some kissing and a striptease and Kame making Jin get on his knees.

"It seems fair," Kame says, while he wants to die.

"Yuuya did not complain about the change," Ootomo says, in his most deferentially reassuring tone, and of course, of _course_ Yuuya didn't complain, was glad he didn't have to stay. "This is all part of the service."

Konoe nods. "No one would fault you for a change of heart at such a time. It's already dealt with."

"Please," Kame says, "I'm sorry if it causes you extra trouble with bookkeeping."

They must have other clients who come in here with more complicated problems, more fragile egos. Who need handholding over newly found kinks or complain about not getting their money's worth, or about the temperature of their breakfast soup.

 _That Kamenashi, bookings all over the place, needs special treatment, doesn't know his own mind…_

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," Konoe says. "We will be pleased to sort it out, if you are quite sure."

"I'm sure."

Maybe he should have that tea. Just a sip, to get this done and make it happen and move them _on_.

"You've had to deal with a lot of changes to your usual schedule," Ootomo says, fairly oozing understanding now. "That can be very stressful, to be deprived of familiar joys."

They noticed. Kame didn't even need to say anything about the other times, about the tricks of his mind. They _know_ he's losing it.

"Ootomo tells me you have been feeling a little more experimental lately," Konoe says. "Which…" A smile, return shyness; he's good too. "We would _encourage_ you to find out what makes you happiest. I just hope the recent changes weren't due to anything being unsatisfactory?"

God, no. "No, not at all. I…"

They noticed, they know he's been weird. Dragging Jin off for rushed blow jobs, two bookings in one evening like some horny first-timer on a sudden rush of money, and, oh god.

He never wanted to be like that, like one of those guys. It's not how he does things when he's normal. For more than two years he's come here, they have to _know that_.

"I was very satisfied." It sounds short and small.

The silence lasts just a little too long, and Kame doesn't know what they're thinking.

Ootomo steeples his fingers over his stomach; maybe it's supposed to look reassuring too. Or not. Kame can usually tell better than this, Ootomo's little signs are so fucking obvious.

"Really," Ootomo prods, "given previous misunderstandings, if there was any way you were unhappy in our house recently…" _So tell us why you've been acting so weird…_

Kame blinks down. At Ootomo's funeral tie, not remotely funny anymore. Ootomo is being appropriate, at least.

He doesn't know when this took such a bad turn. He came here to make things better, to prove he _can_ do better when he knows what's going on and thinks things through. He thought they would believe him.

"I wasn't," he says. "Really."

And then he has some of the fucking tea after all, just because he needs some water and he needs to stop himself from running away.

"We're very glad to hear that," Konoe is saying, in a kind voice. "Then I'm sure it'll sort itself out. We've all experienced awkwardness at one point or other in our lives."

There. That sounded like… that sounded good. Maybe that's it, his way out, graceful retreat, finally, if he can find something to wrap all of this—

"And Tatsuya is looking forward to the rest tomorrow," Ootomo says. "It can be very relaxing to go back to something familiar, can't it?"

Tatsuya. The appointment. Fuck.

Picturing it is like being doused with cold water. He'd completely forgotten.

"I can't," he says, without even thinking. "I can't make that appointment. I'm sorry. My work plans changed. I have to cancel."

"Oh, that's a shame." Ootomo shakes his head. "You're really not very lucky with your schedule."

Disappointment, and Kame didn't even think of that, how reassuring it might be for Ootomo to know Kame's still good with his old routine, the one from back when he was an easy, normal client. That he can _do_ normal.

He can't see Tatsuya now, not like this. Doesn't know what he'll even say…

"I really don't have time."

Another look that passes, and Konoe dips his head subtly before reaching for his tea.

"Then, if you'll allow us…" Ootomo smiles obligingly. "Tadayoshi has pleased you before, hasn't he?"

Please, no. "Yes. We got on fine. A very good experience. But I'm not here about another booking."

"Of course not. But please, regard it as an expression of our sincere wish to make you feel at home in our house." Ootomo looks expectant.

A freebie. He comes in to apologize about the mess last night and they offer him a freebie.

"Your good opinion is important to us," Konoe adds with quiet emphasis, "and we value you as one of our best clients."

And they like him better normal, too. That's the only way he can read it, the only way that makes sense.

"We should be so pleased to alleviate the demands of your work in some small measure, and since you are already here…"

Konoe has another sip of his tea.

"It'll be nice and familiar," Ootomo finishes up.

Nice. Familiar. Kame likes that. They know he likes that. And they like him familiar, too, they don't want him tense, don't want him confused and being confusing.

He's never felt less like sex in his life.

But he's got a way out, an argument they've already accepted, and they know he was serious about that.

"That's very kind of you. I appreciate it. I got on very well with Tadayoshi on previous occasions. But I would really dislike imposing on his time without compensation."

Ootomo smiles at his concern. "Don't worry, he'll be compensated."

Who would turn that down? Only a weirdo. A weirdo who doesn't want to fuck Tatsuya, just keeps going back to the same difficult escort, for weird difficult sex.

"Thank you," he hears himself say. "Very kind." Maybe he even smiles.

"It's our pleasure entirely." Then Ootomo gets up, goes to the desk. He uses Konoe's phone to call through to the lounge.

The manager smiles at him. "And thank you for coming in, Kamenashi-sama, it's always better to hear about things before they can turn into problems."

"Of course," Kame says, while 'Tadayoshi' and 'upstairs please' and 'with a key, it's for Kamenashi-sama' drift through to him. "Thank you for taking the time."

Then Ootomo turns back to them with a pleased expression and a deferential gesture towards the door.

"It will just be a minute."

"Sure," he says, tries not to think of sex, of anything. At least _that_ won't happen here, at least he'll be _out_ of here. Won't feel so watched.

He drinks up his tea.

*~*~*

But he doesn't feel easier once he's following Tadayoshi down the familiar corridor, after promising hellos and polite goodbyes.

Tadayoshi smiles his quiet, unobtrusive smile as the door swings open, and for a moment Kame wants to say no again, he's changed his mind, he doesn't want this, he's not up for this.

Only it would be worse, now.

Changing his mind. Getting himself into situations.

But this, this is normal. This is what happens at the club and he can do it.

The light comes on when he takes the first steps inside, and for a moment it feels like walking on stage.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," he says when they've stopped. Tadayoshi is in purple-on-grey, his hair a soft shade of brown. More highlights, Kame thinks stupidly. Been a while.

"It's not an inconvenience, Kamenashi-san," he says. "It's always good to see you." Maybe he even still means it.

Kame looks at the bed. The couch. Yes, better that. Better… but maybe he should take his clothes off, maybe that would be more normal.

"Is this, is it okay?" he asks. "I didn't make plans for this, I was just stopping by…"

Then Tadayoshi gets into his space, a slow elegant shift. At least he knows Kame enough to be confident. "You don't need to make plans," he says. "You can just enjoy." He stretches out a hand to slip along the red cotton of Kame's scruffy shirt, nudge the edge of the blazer. His smile becomes more intent, seductive, and Kame knows it's all smooth and subtle, only it doesn't feel like that. "Would you like to get comfortable on the couch?"

Okay. The couch works. Apparently it's okay if he doesn't take off his clothes.

He nods. Goes over, sits down.

Tadayoshi follows, moving softly. The room is so silent. Probably a standard one, though Kame didn't pay attention, and the thick pale carpet he's staring at is the same everywhere.

It's good Tadayoshi's the quiet sort, Kame thinks while the man kneels down; there's no glittering exuberance to rattle Kame's nerves further. His hands come to rest on Kame's thigh, stroke up slowly, teasingly, to the belt buckle on his jeans.

And stay.

And nothing is going to happen unless Kame responds, gives some signals. They're going to sit here for an hour until Tadayoshi has concluded he's a weirdo, too, and goes off to complain to Ootomo about freebies that don't even happen because the client couldn't get his act together.

"Okay, right," he says, and fumbles at his belt at last, "sorry."

"It's no problem at all," Tadayoshi says. He does the button, works the zip slowly. His eyes are smiling, his lips parting with promise, and for a panicked moment Kame doesn't know if he can do this at all.

He's never been less aroused in one of these rooms, not even that first time when he was terrified, and god, he doesn't need Takuya in his head now, his dignity, his quiet reassurances.

"Not my usual thing," he mumbles before he gives up, lets the man tug his trousers open properly. He hopes that's apology enough, and this part is Ootomo's fault anyway.

Tadayoshi gives a little shrug, one-sided, cute. "I know," he says, playing at the waistband of Kame's underpants. "But it can be fun anyway."

He puts a flat hand on Kame; he has to feel there's nothing there yet. But he's unfazed. Whatever Ootomo told him, whatever warning he got…

Tadayoshi stretches up; he's tall, he's got reach enough even between Kame's legs, and Kame closes his eyes and bends his head back because he can see where it's going and what he's supposed to do.

There; soft kisses underneath his jaw and a first gentle pressure. He knows it would feel good if he weren't trying to outthink it.

But at last he remembers he can do this. He knows, for a fact, that he can do this, he's got practice. Just go with it, focus on touch, warmth; then wetness, and heat. Knows how to move to make it easier, to get properly hard when he should. Just go, feel the skill that's evident, the rhythm when they finally get that, and think of every nameless, faceless fantasy he's ever had, and get it done.

It's not that intense when he comes; he's a little shaky, a few deep breaths, but it's under control. He leaves his eyes closed and his head resting on the back of the couch, for a long moment. Surely he can have some afterglow.

When he finally raises his head, Tadayoshi looks… pleased, perfectly content.

"I… thank you," Kame tries, while he zips himself up, careful not to hurry. "I… it was fun indeed."

The man takes it as shyness, gives him a flirty smile before adjusting the hem of Kame's polo shirt over his belt.

They say their goodbyes, the usual thank yous. It probably went pretty well. He's sure.

And he wants to leave, but takes the time to piss and wash his hands, because that's normal, too.

And once he sits in his car with his shades on and the door closed, waiting for the last of the tingling to fade, for his heart to slow, too, he tries to feel ready to go home.

He said he'd be home. He's got no excuse. He's going to go home to his wife after he had sex at the club. He never does that.

At least he's got almost an hour's drive to get it a bit more sorted. He can't stay here, sitting in a car in a parking garage.

He starts the engine. He's going home. He's got nowhere else to go.


	18. Chapter 18

## Saturday 04 October

It's six, and Jin's back at the club, and he hasn't thought about Kamenashi all day except to congratulate himself on not thinking about Kamenashi. On the amount of money he made. On getting Yuuya away from the crazy. On keeping it together, more or less. On getting out of there. Many things to be pleased about, and dwelling on the rest just makes no sense.

He slept well last night, too, didn't dream of the playground. That means all the stuff that almost happened didn't fuck him up, he's dealing.

He woke just after nine, jogged to the conbini with Jaejoong to get ume onigiri and two eggs for breakfast, stayed for workout in the empty gym, waved goodbye to Junno and wished him luck again, and then went home.

Treated himself to sea urchin sushi for lunch, then spent a few hours in the local library looking at magazines and newspapers. He also took home a couple of their outdated books on how apprenticeships work. It's way too early to get serious, but it'll help to know what's out there, to have some concrete things to think about.

He's felt fine all day, and the only weirdness has been realizing it every half hour or so with a little twist of surprise.

When he gets to the club, Takahisa is in the break room, chewing on an almond bar while he puts the final styling touches to his hair; maybe back from an assignment, maybe just in late, too.

"You missed the drug test, you lucky bastard," he says to Jin, his lips spreading in a wide congratulatory grin.

Jin taps the side of his nose. "Instinct," he says, and finds a satisfied smile, though he couldn't care less. The tests are random but frequent; anybody who happens to be in the break room and gym gets handed a tube, no big deal. It's just considered good form to whine. Not that these guys would even want to do drugs. Not that class of whore.

The STD test is more regular, once a month, with a white-coated doctor and formal appointments up to two hours before opening time. Nobody missed out, there, ever; even Kimura-senpai comes in for it.

Jin likes knowing that, likes the sense that there are no compromises on safety, even though he knows it's concern for the clients, not them, it's not like escorts expect to fuck each other or— he stops the thought.

Gets changed without thinking much more.

*~*~*

When he steps out of the elevator and around the screen, there's Kamenashi and it stops him dead, and then everything goes cold because…

Yuu-chan. Talking to Kamenashi.

No, Kamenashi talking to Yuu-chan. He's not given up. Has he really not given up?

It's a big lounge even though it's still half empty, and they're at the far end near the concierge where you book rooms, and Jin doesn't know what he'll do anyway, but by the time he's halfway there, Kamenashi is stepping back and bowing and Yuuya bows back and makes some gesture of denial, and what _is_ this?

Kamenashi says a few words, stares into space, into— across the lounge, and his eyes settle on Jin. There's a still moment where it seems like space and air have been sucked away between them, like he can hear Kamenashi breathe _right_ next to him… and then Kamenashi turns back to Yuuya, says something else. And then, with a final, smaller bow, Kamenashi turns and takes the remaining step to the concierge desk, and Jin's breath is just about to stop when Yuuya walks away. Back into the lounge, away from Kamenashi, away from where bookings are made.

Jin changes course, tries to keep an eye on Kamenashi while catching up with Yuuya. The concierge is bowing, then gesturing for one of the attendants. Yuuya is approaching a seating group.

"Yuuya." By now he's close enough that he doesn't have to shout.

Yuuya stops and turns toward him. Smiles. "Jin-senpai! How are you?"

"Fine," Jin says. "What did Kamenashi want? You turned him down?"

Now they're both looking after the man as he vanishes round the screens. No two guesses where he's going.

"He didn't want to book me," Yuuya says.

Now there's a blessing. Though Yuuya sounds puzzled rather than relieved.

"In fact," he is saying, "he apologized for booking me last night. And then he apologized for sending me away. He seemed kind of confused what to apologize for, really."

Apologized? Kamenashi?

"There's a new one," Jin says, vaguely, because his brain is still struggling to digest the new concept.

"He said it was awkward and he didn't handle it well and he's sorry he made me feel uncomfortable. He's going to see Ootomo to tell him it wasn't my fault."

Right. Someone belatedly sent him the script for Mr Nice, and he managed to learn the lines. Not like Jin hasn't seen him make that switch before.

"You're not going to trust him, right?" he says.

Yuuya is looking towards the screens thoughtfully. "If he means it about not wanting me, I won't have to. If not, I'll know he can't be trusted. Either way," he concludes, turning back to Jin, "no need to worry." He seems confident with his assessment. "It's a shame you were late and he didn't get a chance to speak to you."

"He saw me," Jin says, no more.

But Yuuya gets it at last. "Oh."

Jin would have preferred him to be on his guard on his own account, but he'll take anything, as long as Yuuya is no longer tempted to take Kamenashi's acts at face value.

"Don't worry about it," he says. " _I_ won't worry about it. Just don't go thinking he's a nice guy now."

"I won't," Yuu-chan reassures him, big-eyed and solemn now and god, he looks all of fifteen. "I'll be careful."

Jin nods. Okay, that's something. "You were going…" He motions with his head.

"Yeah, I better make a move. I was with these guys when Kamenashi dragged me away, and Koyama-sensei has just stopped blushing whenever I say something to him." Yuuya produces a big smile and waves at the history professor enthusiastically. Jin offers a respectful bow in his direction, and adds one for Kato-sensei.

"Go on then. Yamatani-san should be here soon, too."

A straightforward evening, easy chat with a genuine nice guy; an unproblematic comfort after, one that's like _sex_ between two _people_ , not like… whatever.

He'll take a relaxation later if one falls in his lap, but for once there's no sense of urgency. Maybe that's what it feels like when you're established and popular, when you don't have to take everything that comes in the door.

And he doesn't even have to dream up some way of hitting the right mix between appealing and unavailable for the next ten minutes because here is Yamatani. He greets the concierge with a nod as the door is closed discreetly behind him, turns to search the lounge floor and finds Jin.

He smiles, and Jin smiles back.

"The small red group is still free," Jin says when they've met up just past the dining area, indicating Yamatani's usual corner. "Or would you like to sit somewhere else?"

They rarely go upstairs straight away because Yamatani likes a first drink in the lounge, likes making it more than just fucking.

"That will be just fine," Yamatani says.

He stops briefly on their way there to exchange a few words and a slip of paper with Koyama, whose hand is on Yuuya's thigh by now, with Yuuya's hand on top to keep it there.

Then they settle in the corner with a brandy for Yamatani and a small beer for Jin, and Jin starts to relax while Yamatani tells him what he's been doing since Wednesday. Jin is constantly amazed at how busy a pensioner can be.

Jin doesn't have much to tell. He won't talk about Thursday nights at Tomo's bar, not even with Yamatani. He can't talk about last night. He doesn't want to mention the library visit because letting your client know that you can't wait to get out of the job isn't good form, either.

As always, he thinks he ought to read some good books so he'll be able to talk about them. As always, he knows as he thinks it that he won't bother.

Yamatani is telling him about a new conservatory he's having built in his country house and using the mini ashtray, his lighter and the silver coaster to demonstrate the layout. He's just asked to borrow Jin's lighter, too, when Yaguchi-san from the concierge desk approaches and bows deeply.

"Please, Yamatani-sama, if it's not inconvenient, may I borrow Jin for a short while?"

They both look up, but Yaguchi is only looking at Yamatani, who seems curious but, as always, patient at the interruption.

"He'll be back in fifteen minutes," Yaguchi adds. "If we may offer you a drink and some snacks on the house in the meantime?"

"Please," Yamatani says, giving Jin a smile, "go ahead. I'll be waiting for you."

Fuck.

When Kamenashi sailed up there, when Yuuya told him what had been said, he'd been able to discount it, to tell himself that Yuuya was all it was about, there was no reason to involve Jin, this wasn't about Jin.

But of course, with Kamenashi, it's _always_ about Jin.

*~*~*

"Kamenashi-sama came to see me earlier," Ootomo says, barricaded behind his desk and a pile of tastefully leather-bound folders. It's freezing in his office as always during opening hours, when Ootomo has to wear the suit in case clients – like Kamenashi – come to see him to complain about whores.

Jin bows, and that seems to be all the answer Ootomo expects before he continues.

"He came to explain that a comfort appointment last night for which he had engaged Yuuya-san and yourself had not quite worked out." He's tapping his pen on top of a burgundy binder.

Jin bows again. Says nothing. There's nothing _to_ say, and if Kamenashi blamed him for his precious gang rape cosplay coming off the rails… well. He'd be right.

"And to insist that neither Yuuya-san nor yourself were at fault for the discontinued double comfort," Ootomo says, and Jin bows again and—

Stops. It's sinking in.

Kamenashi did _what_?

When Jin raises his head he knows better than to show surprise, wouldn't want Ootomo to know he was expecting trouble because Ootomo would want to know why.

"He also," Ootomo continues slowly, "insisted on paying the full comfort fee for Yuuya-san, even though I understand that he sent Yuuya away and commuted your part in the appointment into a rest." The pen taps, tap-tap, tap. Ootomo is studying him.

Jin bows again.

"What is going on?" Ootomo asks.

To that, Jin has a straightforward answer. "I don't know."

Ootomo studies him some more. Thinks; seems to come to some decision, and he leans back in his chair and the tapping stops.

"Kamenashi-sama seems to think he handled the double comfort rather badly. Or that it was a bad idea to start on that in the first place."

 _Better with just the two of us._ Right. "It was awkward."

"Yuuya says the atmosphere was rather charged."

So they called Yuu-chan in first. Kamenashi's sure taking up a lot of everybody's time. But least Yuu-chan will make some decent money out of his brush with the Kamenashi experience.

"Kamenashi-sama can get a bit intense," he says blandly. No criticizing the crazy psycho client.

"Focussed on you, Yuuya thought, and quite personal. He was worried about leaving the two of you alone."

"Kamenashi-sama doesn't like me," Jin says. "I guess Yuuya noticed."

Ootomo gives him a long, critical look, and then he leans forward again and it's back, tap-tap.

"If he doesn't like you," he says at last, "why does he keep on booking you?"

Jin manages a little shrug, keeps his face blank. He can't say that he thinks it's because Kamenashi needs a whore without management support for his humiliation games.

Ootomo thinks for a moment. "But you didn't try to turn him down again." Half a question, asking without asking. Right. Like Ootomo shouldn't know the answer to that one.

"No," Jin says, and it doesn't sound as flat as he thought it would. He doesn't try to add anything.

Ootomo's eyes are narrow, guarded. "Jin." He puts the pen down, flat on the folder. Folds his hands on the desk. "I know I brushed you off that first time. Maybe that was hasty. Now Yuuya seems concerned, too, and things are getting strange and I don't like that. If there's anything I should know, tell me."

What's to tell? This time it's not even tangible, not like belts and totally dandy Ootomo-approved bondage. Jin's issues don't matter to Ootomo; they all have sob stories here.

"I don't know what's going on." With a guy who flips from power trips to mellow fucking and from insults to wanting conversation, until the next time… it's never just one type of crazy. "He's kind of unstable."

"Yuuya said he seemed pleasant in the lounge previously."

Jin shrugs again. That's what unstable means. He wasn't too bad late last night, either, not that Jin had been in a position to appreciate it. "Stuff sets him off, I guess."

Ootomo looks slightly pained, as though he's used to greater eloquence. Probably is. "What kind of 'stuff'?"

"Search me. I never know." And just when he thinks he does, it doesn't work that way; when he thinks he's in trouble he's not, and he has no idea why.

"And then what does he do?"

Kamenashi close, hot, relentless, making him ask for things he doesn't want…

He's been okay, all day. Now, when he concentrates, he can feel Kamenashi's fingers twisting inside him, hear that insistent, knowing voice, and the air pressing in on him and Kamenashi _everywhere_. Why did Ootomo have to ask?

Jin takes a breath, hopes it doesn't sound weird.

"Nothing outside the rules," he says. That's what matters to Ootomo, and that's how much he's willing to tell; for once they're on the same page. "Not ever. You'd know about it."

"Okay," Ootomo says. Considers that, repeats it. "Okay. If he approaches you in the lounge, I won't complain if you turn him down, though I expect you to be polite about it. We'll consult you about outside appointments."

Jin's still taking it in, but he nods.

"Has he tried to tie you up again?"

"No."

"Good. Maybe he's over that. But if he tries, refuse and refer him to me. I don't want one of our escorts involved in any unpleasantness."

Ootomo's word for 'found dead in a ditch', but for once Jin can live with the prettification.

"What about Yuuya?" he says.

"Yuuya will no doubt keep out of Kamenashi-sama's way. Given how busy he generally is, that should not be a great problem."

"But if Kamenashi asks for him—"

"Jin." Ootomo picks the pen up again. It circles once between his fingers before it stills. "I spoke to Tatsuya-san, too. I even gave Kimura-san a call. Neither of them have ever found Kamenashi-sama anything but polite and considerate. Yuuya thought he was fine until the three of you got together." He steeples his fingers, waits.

"It's me," Jin says, to a dull throb of confirmation. Not like he didn't know, didn't guess. If Kamenashi did this with everybody, word would have got around. He wouldn't _be_ the regular of people like Tatsuya and Kimura-senpai.

"Like you said," Ootomo says gently. "He doesn't seem to like you."

Jin stares at Ootomo; thinks of Kamenashi meditating over a beer bottle, of Kamenashi talking about the weather. "Then why the hell does he keep booking me?"

*~*~*

It feels strange, to know that there's some protection now, that somebody is keeping an eye on him. Him and Kamenashi.

Back in the lounge, he lets Yamatani buy him a large glass of Pinot Noir and for once he drinks it all, lets it sink in while they pick up their chat about the conservatory and how much the cats will like it. That he's not the only one who sees a problem here, that he's no longer facing the crazy client all alone…

…that if there's another problem with Kamenashi, management is likely to back _him_.

"You look happy," Yamatani says, regarding him with friendly interest over the rim of his own glass. "Did something good happen?"

Jin can't talk about clients, even crazy ones. But he doesn't have to hide he's happy. "There was a thing that worried me," he says. "For a while. But I've just found out I don't have to worry anymore."

Yamatani smiles, face wrinkling even more in delight. "That must be such a relief. It's terrible, having to worry for a long time. And so exhausting." For a moment he looks thoughtful, reminiscent. Then he tilts his head and smiles again. "Would you like to cancel tonight, so you can celebrate properly? I promise I won't feel rejected."

Jin blinks, stares at him, probably looks like an idiot. It just hadn't occurred to him… that it would occur to anybody… when he himself hadn't even for a moment considered it.

He smiles. "An appointment with you is the nicest celebration I'm likely to get."

*~*~*

He's out after two hours anyway, and that includes the fancy seafood dinner Yamatani bought them before fucking, and the shower Jin took afterwards. He even took the time to fix himself up again right there; it's okay, with Yamatani, and they chatted about his daughter-in-law and her pet pekingese while he did it. Yamatani didn't mention worries or celebrations again. Yamatani is good with stuff like that.

Jin heads back to the break room, just to take a few minutes to psych himself back up for the lounge. The room's almost empty, typical for a Saturday. People really only come here for a quick breather, or for a shower between one client and the next. He picks a bottle of tea out of the fridge.

Tatsuya is wearing a clubbing outfit, tight and black with a few metal glints, and is just finishing the application of subtle eyeliner. Jun has a towel wrapped around himself, the warm scent of mandarines coming off his skin. Masaki is dressed up and ready to go – again, Jin suspects – and is fumbling at the clasp of the fat, ugly gold watch he's wrapped around his wrist.

"Tamori again?" Jin says; not even a guess, because Masaki wouldn't wear the tasteless piece otherwise.

Masaki rolls his eyes in a comical way. "What can I say, it's love."

Jin snorts, and Masaki giggles.

"I might give this horrible thing to whoever wins the pool," he says. "You can sell it or something."

"Not me," Jin says, "I'm already out."

Masaki pouts. "I'm hurt, Jin. Think I can't keep my man for more than two months?"

Tamori is an outside client who is officially 'in love' with Masaki. It happens, every so often – a client gets infatuated, showers the escort with presents, and there are declarations of devotion and promises of a life together until one day it's over. Just when that day will come, they can't know, but that's what the betting pool is for.

"I'm still in," Jun says smugly, inspecting a black thong he's pulled from his holdall to see which way round it should go. "He looks like the angst-for-a-month kind of guy. I give him till just before Christmas."

"That's a lot of flowers and jewelry," Jin considers.

"And that ghastly eau de cologne," Jun says.

"It's shirts right now," Masaki says. "Got a nice cream one the other day. Raw silk."

"If it goes on to New Year, you'll be breaking Jun's record," Tatsuya says with a last glance in the mirror before he tidies his equipment away. "Jun's pride will be hurt."

"What," Jun says, "the puppy?" He adjusts himself in the flimsy piece of underwear, then reaches for a shirt. "That was nothing to be proud of, he'd have gone with anyone who figured out he wanted to bottom and was too macho to say so." He sighs down his buttons at how hard some people make their lives. "I just got him there first. He imprinted."

"I thought those were ducks?" Jin tries.

Jun gives him a little grin. "Geese," he says. "Well, he's got a long neck."

"Last I heard he graduated to Hina," Masaki says, slinging the discreet club satchel over his shoulder.

"Has he?" Jun is frowning at his socks now. "Won't last. He just wants to get fucked, not lick boots."

Jin's finished his tea. The conversation isn't fascinating enough to stick around for.

He takes a last look in the mirror, makes sure he looks okay. Adds lip gloss because he's not keen on more than a relaxation now, and sometimes that helps give people the right idea.

At least he can be pretty sure that Kamenashi won't be around tonight.

In the lounge, he joins a seating group with a few guys he's seen but not had before, because the only current alternative is a group including Suzuki, who definitely likes his mouth but whom Jin prefers not to have there. He won't turn Suzuki down, but he won't chase him down, either, not when he isn't desperate, not after a rest, and maybe the thirteen guys he won't have to blow can _all_ be Suzuki. By now, he can even smile about that.

He introduces himself to the client who isn't currently making intrigued eyes at Danny or giggling with Satoshi, and then it's the usual conversational gambits: does he come here often and how does he like it, and Jin gets bought a drink, and then he learns a lot about breeding fish.

Somewhere between ecosystems, nests and spawning tanks, he notices Sakurai at the bar and his stomach does a little dip. And then he's really annoyed.

Because he shouldn't have to feel like that and that's a chance that didn't have to be wasted, Sakurai was a decent guy, and Kamenashi… didn't have that much to do with it, really. _Jin_ blew that chance. And it's not like he doesn't know why, and he didn't have it together then, but that doesn't make it less annoying.

He nods on autopilot when his prospective client's tone seems to require it, and adds something about how guppies have pretty tails.

Maybe he should just go talk to Sakurai again. To prove he won't let Kamenashi get to him in that way and he's been fine today, he's got it together.

And weirdly, it seems like it would be easy just to go up to the man and find some excuse and make it properly… and Jin stops to wonder what else will seem easy now.

When there's a break in the talk of yolk sacs and infusoria, he excuses himself, says, "Just for three minutes, there is something I need to clear up." He even manages a vaguely smouldering look. "I promise I will be back."

He doesn't give himself much time to think as he approaches Sakurai, who's still alone, waiting for company or enjoying the quiet; Jin only slows down a few paces from the man's barstool so it doesn't look like he's descending on him, and waits at a respectful distance until he gets noticed. It doesn't take long.

He bows. "Sakurai-san, may I have a very quick word?"

Sakurai, attractive in stylish slacks and a dark green shirt, looks good-naturedly curious and nods at the seat next to his.

Jin slides onto it. "I don't have long, I'm supposed to be over there—" He gestures subtly. "— but I saw you and I wanted to explain my strange behaviour the other night."

Sakurai nods, with a reserved sort of interest. "You seemed a little confused all of a sudden."

"Yes," Jin says. "I had a headache all night and I'd taken something during the break, but the effect suddenly faded and the lights got too much and I couldn't think. It happened very suddenly. It was stupid of me to come back into the lounge after my break, and I apologize for being weird."

"It's not a problem," Sakurai says. "I was just a bit puzzled. I didn't take offense."

"Thank you." Jin rises; he shouldn't keep Mr Fish waiting. "I'm really glad to hear that. I hope you have a nice evening." He bows deeply.

"Don't go getting any more headaches," Sakurai says with a smile.

Jin smiles back. "I'll try not to."

No more belts and ties. And he _can_ turn the asshole down. Management is backing him. He thinks the headache stage is over.

~

_Chapter 19 to follow 14/07/2011_


	19. Chapter 19

## Monday 13 October

He's not sleeping well.

It makes no sense. Nothing is wrong, it's all long past, but his thoughts circle and circle and when it's dark, it gets worse.

That's when they come out, the long-buried things, anger, misery, and… no, not fear, at least not that, not anymore. He's taken care of that.

But the rest isn't as far away as he's fooled himself into thinking. He thought he was more okay than this. He thought he was… not over it, no. You don't get over that. But he had it dealt with, he was able not to think about it, for weeksat a time, to tell himself it was in the past and this was his present, and that was that.

Now… he's not sure. He's not sure of anything; everything seems to be in the balance and he's losing control and he has to be careful, so careful. He can't afford to put a step wrong. He could forget about that at the club, he's been able to set it aside, but now that the club is problematic, too, everything's precarious. Everything is tense.

And he's tired.

They shoot late; long difficult scenes with endless wait and hurry, breaks that make him twitchy and exhausted, polite small talk that makes him long for a chance to close his eyes.

He goes to interviews, promotions; stays behind for photo shoots where the light is rough and piercing and the photographer's face too expectant for him not to deliver, and all he wants is quiet.

The campaign kicks off, loud with good intentions, bright and busy, kids to adore and colleagues to bond with, and he feels dull and worn with the drone of the engine when somebody finally drives him home and he can close the door, shut out their noise.

He still can't sleep.

Lies in bed for hours, listening to Midori's even breathing beside him.

And Midori…

He can talk to Midori about anything but he can't talk about this, because she doesn't know the truth. She'll tell him it's water under the bridge, his career is safe, the Morioka shots meant nothing. She'll think it's about past scares and paranoia, not about his only love coming back to haunt him, because he lied to her, too.

*~*~*

Midori is out, now, and he's packing his bag for a dissatisfyingly short day of work in the city, and a few long ones to follow.

He checks he's got the freshly laundered shirts from the ironing service on the main street, the new bottle of organic moisturizer sold by the new age commune a few kilometers down the road. They make a conscious effort to use local shops and services when they can. He checks for the ear plugs he never uses but always takes along anyway.

The air is sweet from Midori's bath, a light scent of apples lingering despite the breeze from the open window. She's left damp footprints on their blue bath mat, and Kame's reflection is a little spotty where she wiped the fog off the mirror with her hand.

Midori's meeting is at noon and she didn't have to leave until eleven. They took advantage of the late start for both of them to draw out the evening, first over dinner and then in bed. He was pleased with himself for being the one to suggest it.

And he took it slow, made it last, as he always does, because it's right and it's easy for him, too, none of that sweeping urgency, no rush of desire to keep in check, no wish to just take. It's relaxed and he knows he does a good job pleasuring her, he's competent and considerate, and it's a good thing if he needs a while to get into it – it means he can do nice things for her for a long time.

He likes to make it good for her. He owes her that, at least, and he takes pride in doing it well.

That's why it shook him wide awake when afterwards, curled up against him and tracing his collarbone with her fingers, she said, "Is something wrong?"

He rinses his mouth, spits; tries to ignore the tension behind his eyes, the swell of unease at the memory. Puts his toothbrush back beside Midori's in her old Tigger mug from her university days.

He doesn't know what happened last night. He did the things he always does, the way that always works. The things he knows she likes. And didn't think of Jin, not for a second, didn't let himself be distracted.

Didn't think of Souji, either, even though that's become more difficult since that free fall moment when Jin was there and looked like that and everything melted. He's been keeping Souji away since then, out of his head, his mind, out of anything he does. He's not going to sneak past Kame again, even when he's so tired from thinking about not thinking about him that if he closed his eyes, he'd feel Souji's skin under his fingertips. He didn't close his eyes last night and he didn't think of Souji.

He can focus when he has to. He knows he made Souji feel unloved, no matter how he loved him. He's been trying not to make that mistake with Midori, never mind the irony.

He can focus when he's in bed with his wife, who deserves a lot better from him.

He wipes his face, hangs the towel up to dry, puts it out of his mind. He has work later, he has things to do. He's going to focus.

*~*~* ****

He throws out half of his breakfast rice uneaten, though he finished the soup and ate the leftover half of Midori's croissant. He makes a new pot of coffee, strong enough to wake the dead, and softens it with a heap of sugar. Midori opened the curtains; it's a lovely morning.

Maybe he was a bad boyfriend. He doesn't know. He didn't think he was, then. But he's a bad husband, and now he's failing as a client and… who knows. He doesn't know. Maybe the only thing he's good at is his job. Towards the end, Souji kept saying that was the only thing he cared about, anyway.

He should read the romantic moron script again, to see if he can truly face the screen tests. He has new project proposals and interview outlines that he takes to the couch along with his coffee, and then he breathes in the bitterness and tries to think about what answer he's going to give on his high school experience.

He told Morioka about the bullies and the baseball, but it's not a story for public broadcast, just a careless confidence. Morioka doesn't swap stories with him now. That's for the best. He should have been more careful there, too.

Maybe he can claim he was lucky in his teachers, and say not everyone has someone looking out for them.

He gave Souji everything he wanted; everything except public acknowledgement, and Souji should have understood that you can't, not in this industry, not if you get cast as the boyfriend and lover, the role model and hero… not if you want any kind of part worth having, if you are hoping for promotion deals and involvement in the big, government-sponsored campaigns.

He blinks back to the start of the list of questions. Bullies in his school, seniors who supported him. And then the cute stuff that might come up, high school sweethearts, his first valentine, and what his favourite subject was. It's a good cause, though, and he's glad to be involved.

The government doesn't run gay pride campaigns.

He's still tired despite the caffeine, despite the rattling thoughts, despite the restlessness that has him tapping out rhythms he can't even hear.

He keeps telling himself Souji wasn't worth his career, and that what happened proves it. But he doesn't know if he isn't just lying to himself, and it's going round and round in his head, and he can't go to work like this.

He's got time, nowhere to be before three. Might as well take advantage of living in the suburbs.

He drops marching orders and helpful guidelines on the coffee table, changes into his jogging gear, takes nothing but his car keys and leaves.

*~*~*

The park is small, but the absence of skyscrapers around it still makes it seem more spacious than the much larger ones in central Tokyo. The birches are already a glowing yellow, the other trees turning more slowly.

The fresh autumn air helps clear his head from the first moment, even while his body is still twitchy and his fists want to hit something. He takes the first three hundred meters too fast, before he comes to his senses and slows down. Pushing too hard for a quick burn-out won't give him what he needs.

So he paces himself rigidly, tries to find satisfaction in the tight grip of control over impulse as he racks up the rounds while he waits for the real strain to set in, the one he's going to ignore so he can push into proper exhaustion.

It takes a while.

But when he finally stops, it's because he simply can't go on, and it feels wonderful. His side hurts, and he's dizzy for a moment before he bends over to catch his breath, raw and hot in his throat. His eyes are stinging with sweat.

"Uh… Kamenashi-san?"

He straightens at the female voice.

"Oh my god, you _are_ him!"

A teenager, or maybe early twenties, hair dyed half orange, half green, her eyes thickly mascaraed underneath pierced eyebrows with spiky ornaments. She gazes at him in awe, even though his face must be red and blotchy and sweaty and his hair is plastered to his cheeks.

Kame smiles faintly, and it takes him a moment to stop staring back and notice her companion, pretty and soft-looking in an innocent schoolgirl kind of way. She has her eyes fixed on his face and her mouth vaguely open, and giggles when he nods hello at her.

"Excuse us… we are so sorry; we don't want to bother you," the colourful one says. "It's just… we're such fans, and we've watched everything you've been in and so many interviews and suddenly there you were…"

Yes, here he is, and because this is not central Tokyo he thought he could do without any cover. He hates disguises when he goes running, slippery sunglasses and caps that make him sweat, and he'd thought he'd be okay. Oh, he knows he's been watched before, but it's the first time somebody actually stopped him here.

Well. He was the one who stopped. They just took advantage. Can't really blame them. It's nice to have fans.

And these ones _are_ nice, he can tell that much from looking. Not the other kind he gets, from fifteen to fifty, the kind in whose eyes he can read just what they really want from him, who'd buy him if they could. These are fans who just like him, like and respect his work.

"Don't worry about it," he says, gives each of them a smile. "So you like what I do, huh?"

"Totally," says the one who has been speaking throughout. The other one giggles again and nods and clutches her handbag closer to herself. "We both love that movie where you played the blind guy – that was so convincing, and you were so cool. And that series where you're the defense attorney? That really taught me how to stand up for what I believe, so my folks couldn't hassle me into becoming an economist and I'm studying to be a social worker instead."

"That's great," Kame says at once, processing, remembering… okay, he was a good guy there. He always is. But he figures there are worse things than inspiring people to want to help the underdog. "It's an admirable choice. I feel honoured my work had some part in it."

The girl blushes rather a lot, and then she says quickly, "And Momoko-chan is thinking about being a teacher." She glances towards the other one, who is still blushing and giggling and trying to cover it with her hand.

"That's great," Kame says again, as is expected of him. "What kind?"

"Art," she mumbles.

"Well," he says, "I hope you get an easier class than the one I have in the film."

There is a pause.

"Uh," his aspiring social worker says, when it's clear that this is likely to be the end of the conversation, "do you think I could have your autograph? It would mean a lot to me."

"Of course," Kame says. "Only I don't have anything to write.

"Oh, that's okay." She dumps her bag on the ground and reaches in, comes up with a thick paperback on working with offenders, and flips the title page over. "Here will be fine. It'll remind of me how I got into doing this."

"It's very appropriate," Kame says, and they share a smile. He finds out that her name is Kaori, and he writes something about working hard and persevering, wishing her good luck with her career. His fingers leave damp marks on the page, but she doesn't care in the least, and she bows deeply when he hands the book back. He turns to the giggly girl.

"Would you like me to write something for you, too?"

She blushes even more but nods quickly and rummages in her own bag, extracting a folder with a large picture of a cartoon turtle on it. Kame doesn't comment.

"Momoko, right?" he says instead.

"Yes…"

"That's a nice name," he says. "Would you like me to write Momoko-chan or just Momoko?"

She asks for the 'chan', and he writes a couple of lines for her, too.

They don't try to keep him after that; he doesn't even have to find a way to excuse himself politely. As they move on he turns into the other direction, back to the car.

He's starting to cool down, and he's got his breath back. The satisfied numbness of his limbs makes him feel floaty, distant from the world, and there's a deep burn in his lungs when he inhales. It would be even better if he could have shut out thinking for a while longer. If he could just have been nobody for a bit.

Still. It ought to make him feel good. People like him, admire him, and he can make them happy. Just by talking to them and signing his name on their textbooks and folders, he can make them happy.

He slams the car door shut. Starts the car.

It would feel better if he thought they'd like him if they knew him.

But that only happens in one place, and it's getting more and more difficult to go there now because he can't trust himself, and others think he can't be trusted now he's doing all these strange things, things that get noticed and aren't like him just because Jin… just because Souji… just because _he_ can't keep the past from fucking up his present even more that it already has.

It's been ten days since he almost fucked a child, since he took some old hurt out on a guy who was just trying to do his job; since he orchestrated a bizarre setup it took him way too long to…

He can only be grateful he was saved from himself, that Jin knew there was something wrong before Kame did.

The house is as he left it, with his unfinished packing sitting in the middle of the tidy quiet like an intruder. After his shower, he avoids the cologne he wore last night.

He misses proper sex. Sex that's about desire and connection and not about duty, and certainly not about anger or confusion.

And sure, he and Jin got it to work between them in the end, and it's good to know it _can_ work like that with Jin, but they were awkward and tense, and Kame was exhausted and confused by then, and it had taken hours to get them to that point. Hours and some bad choices. Why can't it be easy?

Well, he knows that now.

He dresses simple and casual, the first pair of jeans he grabs. He's only working on the set today, doesn't have to be worthy and upstanding for people who look up to him, people who think he's some kind of hero.

When he checks the mirror he looks normal, unobtrusive. Not like a hero, but at least like a decent person.

If he tells Jin what was wrong, maybe they can start over. Do it right without the weird prelude.

If… he stares at himself in the mirror and imagines saying… he can't even imagine yet. He doesn't have any words yet. He'll have to figure them out.

It's the last thing he wants, to explain this, to talk about this at all. It's too raw still, even after three and a half years. Too personal. But he has to let Jin know what was going on there, that first time and that last time. Why he wasn't more patient with him the first time they met. Why things went so wrong and he was so unlike himself last time. Jin didn't do anything that time. He owes the man an explanation, and a more honest one than the one he gave Ootomo.

He'll apologize, and explain, and apologize again, and they'll manage to have a proper appointment, with conversation about whatever they can find in common, and with proper, nice sex, and it will be sorted out. They'll be clear, and there'll be no more weirdness when he goes to the club, no more strange decisions, they'll be cool.

He throws the last bits and pieces into the bag and leaves for the second time.

~

 _Chapter 20 to follow 21/07/2011_


	20. Chapter 20

### Wednesday 08 October

Jun closes the break room door, a deep frown under his mop of post-assignment hair. His tie hangs loose around his neck, and his shoelaces make snappy noises dragging on the floor. "What the fuck was _that_?"

Jin blinks at him, startled out of his lull. The question seems directed at the world at large.

Koichi sits down in the armchair, passing up the empty sofa spot next to Jin. "Ootomo?" he asks sympathetically, ignoring the news program that's still on in favour of the in-house entertainment.

"That new guy." Jun sounds affronted. "Yokoyama."

Huh. That's weird.

Jin pulls himself up into his corner, indicating that the other half of the couch is still empty, but Jun directs his frown at the fridge.

"Never had him," Danny says where he's sitting at the table in jeans and a t-shirt, a mug of coffee between his hands. His hair is drying in wild curls. He's finished working for the night. "Weirdo?"

Jin actually thought Yokoyama was kind of nice. He didn't get any less nutty with his clothes off, but it was the likeable kind of unpredictable. It doesn't often happen to Jin that clients ask his advice on how things work with escorts.

From the tight line of Jun's mouth, the selection of drinks leaves something to be desired. "Hm," he says. "Weird's one word for it."

"He another one who wants to get you in a school girl uniform?" Shota points at Jun with his chopsticks, clearly entertained. He's got an appointment at ten and is wearing a shapeless t-shirt over silk boxers so no slurpy stuff gets on his new Boss suit. "I'd pay to see that."

Jun grabs a full-fat mango lassi out of the fridge. He must be upset. "Well, you know what my rates are," he says testily. Not that Jin thinks there's a chance in hell. Jun does a lot of stuff, but he's kind of particular about it.

He, too, leaves the couch to Jin, dropping into the second armchair. That's when he realizes everyone's still looking at him.

"I don't know either!" he says, waving the unopened can around. "But _not_ something I need."

"I think he's experimenting," Jin offers cautiously.

"You've had him?"

"Yeah," Jin says. "Last weekend." He never has much to say in these discussions, and he doesn't want to sound like he's trying to give Jun advice. "I thought he was nice."

"Nice, huh?" Jun gives him a long look, but doesn't seem offended.

"Yeah. Just… you know." Jin turns his mug of tepid mint tea once in his hand. "Curious about stuff."

Well, no, though maybe he'll get around to trying that too, Jin thinks. He's sure got enough sense of adventure.

Jun rolls his eyes. "I can handle _kink_." And then he frowns a bit more, as if admitting he can't handle Yokoyama wasn't the plan.

Jin falls silent again, glances at the TV while Shota tells them all about this new hangover cure he discovered. He catches the last bit of a mini-bio about some scientist guy, complete with sappy music. Jun opens his drink, slouches deep into the armchair, and his frown eases up.

It can be loud in the break room even with just five of them, but right now it's quiet, relaxed. They're all fresh from an assignment, or waiting to go, or finished for the night, and for once there's no frenzy and no sex talk, and nobody is in a rush.

"Could I borrow the remote, please?" Koichi says very politely. In a moment, Jin might have found out what the deal is with the famous scientist, but he's not that bothered, hands it over.

"Hey," Jun says, past Jin's shoulder, in the direction of the table. "What are you still doing here?"

"Soliciting advice from my respected elders," Danny says behind him.

"What about?"

"Kaneda," Danny says. "Special weekend getaway."

"The yacht?" Jun sounds moderately impressed.

"Yup. Next weekend. I think tonight was the audition."

"And you're going?"

"Don't see why not," Danny says, though he still sounds cautious. "Party of six, but bring your own boyfriend, and, you know." Money for weekend specials is pretty impressive.

It's not frequent, but some clients like to take one of them out for a whole weekend to some holiday location, or to private parties exclusive enough to serve the paranoid needs of the general Johnny clientele. And then it's long dinners and conversations and boozing and, who knows, maybe hand-holding on the beach. From what Jin's heard, orgies are actually kind of rare. He's still glad this isn't the sort of thing that happens to him.

"I liked the yacht," Shota says. Koichi comments over his shoulder that he'd have preferred a boat to that godawfully boring summer house in the middle of nowhere.

Jin has his eyes on the TV but he doesn't bother paying attention, just sips at his tea some more. He isn't avoiding the lounge. Doesn't have to, and that feels good. He's fixed his hair again, and he'll go down and see what's still going, in a while. But technically he'd still be in one of the rooms, and it makes him feel like he's not wasting too much time.

His comfort was finished in under an hour; all the guy wanted was to fuck, no frills. Together with Karube at lunchtime, that's a pretty good Wednesday.

"Very relaxed," Shota is explaining. "Nice pool. But you never know who's going. Can get boring."

"Bring a book," Jun advises instantly. "Or a DS. The boredom's the worst. Don't bug him when you get bored."

The door opens again, Yuuya sneaking back in from his shower, a damp towel hanging over his head like a funny sort of tent. He smiles when he sees Jin is still there.

"Hey, what were you doing?" Danny asks him curiously, ignoring his boat issues for a moment. "I thought you only had a relaxation."

Yuuya pulls the towel off his head. His hair is lying flat in a dorky middle parting. "Yes, but with Miwa-san," he explains, with a look at Jin, who nods in understanding. Miwa likes to get cuddly, the rare guy who takes hand jobs on relaxations.

Yuu-chan seems okay with it, though. Jin looks away when he turns towards his locker.

"He should just pony up for a comfort and be done with it," Shota comments, but without much bite. "It's what he really wants."

"Do I need any special sort of outfits, you think?" Danny asks, which Jun mulls over with the air of the proper expert. He seems pretty recovered by now, though he probably doesn't know his hair still looks very traumatized.

The sofa bounces when Yuuya drops himself in the empty spot next to Jin. He gives Jin another smile. "I feel like taking a break, too," he says. "It's nice when it's quiet up here."

It really feels quiet, even though they're chatting. Maybe half of them being in underwear makes it so relaxed.

"Yeah, quiet is good," Jin says, and looks at Yuu-chan properly, with a smile of his own. He felt awkward the first time they were alone and not dealing with Kamenashi, just talking about regular stuff – well, they're not alone now, there's Danny and his boat deliberations and Koichi and a jingly theme song, but still. He doesn't want Yuuya to think that things are weird for them now. "Everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Yuuya says easily. "But I had two really boring tables in a row. I don't have much of an opinion on cell phone radiation." He wrinkles his nose.

Jin laughs, and agrees that he probably needs a break. Yuuya then fills him in on the investment advice he got from Koyama-sensei, which he considers more useful than brain cancer panic, while the variety show Koichi has switched to babbles on in the background.

Jun is explaining to Danny that Kaneda will want to show him off – him in particular – but that the friends he invites tend to be people with actual partners and boytoys on the outside, not clients. "More charm, less slutting," is how he sums it up.

"Actual rich gay guys with actual boyfriends," Shota marvels as though he's hearing of the concept for the first time. "How remarkably well-adjusted."

Yuuya shoots Jin a grin.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Shota adds, getting up to throw out his ramen cup. "Kaneda's a good client. And pretty hot." Early forties is young for their business.

Jin always thinks he looks kind of mean, hard-edged. But those weekend things of his seem to be popular.

"Yeah, thanks," Danny says. He gets up too, flinging his frayed red backpack over his shoulder. On his way to the door he mutters something about catching a movie or just going home to recover from the lack of sleep caused by some unflagging businessmen last night.

"Would you like to sit here?" Yuuya asks Shota when Danny is gone. He moves up in Jin's direction, making room.

"Thanks," Shota says. "Anyone for more tea?"

He gets Koichi a mug of milk tea, a can of coke for Jun and a coffee for Yuuya, who doesn't seem uncomfortable at all squeezed up against Jin while they wait for Shota to settle.

"What are we watching, anyway?"

Jin almost cracks up at how that sounds. Fits the mood, though. Jun has just kicked off his shoes.

His socks follow and he wriggles his toes. "Don't ask me," he says, but looks interested nevertheless when Koichi turns the volume up a little.

"Charity thing," Koichi says, and nothing more.

Seems like it, from the school kids of all ages and the matching t-shirts. And the elegant old lady who, the subtitles inform him, is a veteran actress, and the spokeswoman of the education ministry saying… right.

Jin figures it out before she mentions the problem of bullying in schools, and then it's not even a shock when the camera pans over a row of very slim and photogenic people, and Kamenashi's profile flicks past the screen.

Yuu-chan is nursing his coffee next to Jin and hasn't noticed anything. He's pulling one leg under himself, smiling an apology when his foot bumps against Jin's knee.

Jin nods quickly that it's fine, then leans forward to put his tea down, just to be rid of it. He wants nothing warm and clammy in his hands.

But he doesn't get up. He's not going to bolt just because Kamenashi is on TV.

It's a bit late for wholesome housewife TV, but what does he know. Maybe that's a sign that he shouldn't have dawdled.

"Familiar faces," Shota notes when Sakurai Sho is big on the screen.

Sakurai speaks eloquently about the need to oppose bullying and allow victims to come forward, to prevent children from becoming bullies in the first place, _they, too, need help and support so they can face their problems_.

"Poor little bullies," Shota comments, pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged. Jun thinks Sakurai should have picked a better tie, and Yuu-chan agrees he dresses nicer for the club, though it's good he got that haircut.

Jin never noticed the two of them talking, but good for Yuu-chan; Sakurai is a client worth talking to.

And then the camera zooms in on Kamenashi and the old lady actress, who nudges him forward in a bossy way, and Kamenashi laughs and motions for her to speak into the mic first even though the presenter is clearly angling for him.

Jin misses the explanation for whatever awesome and amazing thing she and Kamenashi did together because he notices Yuuya's gone still.

He glances over, gives a tiny shrug to the question in Yuuya's face. Not sure what he's answering, except that he doesn't care much. Yuuya quirks his mouth and nods, a little.

So, Kamenashi and his veteran actress. She has a no-nonsense way of talking, less flowery and sappy than Sakurai even.

"That's where he got the nickname," Koichi explains to whoever last cared about Kamenashi, just as the lady says she knew Kame-chan when he was barely out of high school, _he had this way of looking shy, it just seemed to fit,_ and then Shota wonders if Kamenashi will still be coming in when he really does look like a reptile.

"Sure," Yuuya says calmly. "Can't do all that," he nods at the TV, "being out and proud with a normal boyfriend."

"Aww, and we'd hate to miss it." Jun seems to find this entertaining. "Such a good show."

Kame-chan is praising his senior with just the right dose of subservience, every blink looking under control.

Jin doesn't know why he's still here. This is ridiculous, and kind of stupid, and it wouldn't be his thing even if it didn't involve clients and assholes. But it's also… not that scary. It feels good just to notice that, to look at Kamenashi's fake-friendly magazine-cover-in-motion smile and not feel frozen in place.

He never has to put up with Kamenashi's weird issues again, doesn't have to wonder what makes him so goddamn special that Mr Harmless And Vanilla brings out his crazy just for him.

Here, Kamenashi is behaving. Nods and answers in the face of the presenter's hyperactive adoration, relentlessly cheerful. Laughs just a little too long when she jokes about what a shame it is he's married.

Finally Kamenashi and the lady take their places in the row again, leaving the screen to the presenter. Between them is a small group of people noticeably less polished and picture perfect. Those would be the little people. Jin is annoyed with himself that he even remembers.

"Regular blow jobs for the boss," Jun suggests. Jin has missed why. "They wouldn't believe what it does for a work environment."

"Or hard-working colleagues who do the blowing for you," Koichi says pointedly.

Jun smirks back at him. "Same difference." On the screen, a clip shows Sakurai on some school yard talking to uniformed girls, junior high at most, never mind the make up, and Jun shuts up about the blowing.

"Are those his kids?" Yuuya asks when Sakurai, back in the studio, comes forward again, hand in hand with a girl who seems nothing but a giant grin and a bouncing ponytail.

"Doubt it." Jun drapes his legs over the arm of his chair, slinking down further. "I'm pretty sure his kids get dental work."

They're not, in fact, Sakurai's kids. The girl is one of three junior high students who have been doing ground work for the campaign, acting as class organizers and setting up mediation groups in the schools in their neighbourhoods. The oldest rattles off their motivations and hopes and dreams in an organized sort of voice and Jin actually finds her a bit intimidating, until she bursts into a giggle and claps a hand over her mouth, completely losing track just because Sakurai asks her why she's so awesome.

The adoring look she gives Sakurai is almost worse to watch than Kamenashi.

"Man, if they knew," Shota says quietly.

There is a second long clip of Sakurai and… high school students. Maybe he's in charge of them? Sakurai looks suave in front of the camera and professionally nice, and apparently a lot of good work has been done by a bunch of very earnest, serious teenagers. Some of them tell short little stories of their reasons for being involved. Disappearing shoes. Clothes rubbed full of chalk. Often it's stories of things they've seen happen to others, things they want to stop. Sakurai listens with smooth sympathy, pats arms and praises courage.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been for Jin. Not like anyone knew… But it makes him think of Taro-chan and being that horrible age. He hopes his dad has an eye on that at least.

Or maybe there's someone at his school, too, who thinks it's worth interfering, who thinks it's important enough to get involved. Someone like the girl with the big teeth and the blabbermouth, or the boy who sounds fifteen going on forty but couldn't sleep at night because he couldn't afford designer glasses…

God, he can't believe they're getting to him. He's not getting suckered into their celebrity circus.

So it probably helps that next up is Kamenashi again. And there are no cute kids to distract, either. Good for the kids.

The pushy presenter has directed him to the front and is nodding profusely before Kamenashi even starts speaking, tense as a wire and smiling like it's his first birthday in five years. Such an honour to be invited. So great to meet so many enthusiastic, involved people.

Bright-eyed, over-eager, ready to play; fake like—

Jin's seen better acts down in the lounge, anyway.

"Dude, she would totally buy him an overpriced drink," Shota says.

On screen, Kamenashi and Sakurai are professing their new-found friendship. "I guess that would be a little embarrassing," Jun muses. "To admit you met sharing whores."

"Do they?" Shota asks curiously.

"No idea," Jun shrugs. "Never had that one. Seems kind of stuck up." Kamenashi gestures widely at the little people, all smooth again, so polished the rain wouldn't leave him wet.

"He's usually taken," Koichi points out. "He doesn't sleep around much." He misses the very long look Yuuya gives him.

And Jin almost missed the change in Jun, who's dropped the sulk to check Jin out in a very entertained fashion.

"So Jin got special dispensation?" he asks. "Marketable skill, that. Corrupting the monogamous adulterer."

"Don't know what Jin's got," Koichi says, eyes still on the screen.

"Hey, no bullying in the work place," Shota says lazily. "I don't think we're so cute we'd get saved by film stars."

Koichi gives him a look over his shoulder while Jun makes a comment about qualifying for deprived childhoods, and Jin blinks into the calm stare, tries not to feel queasy or unwelcome.

"All yours," he says flatly. Koichi turns back around and doesn't answer.

"Not that that one is particularly cute," Jun observes. It takes Jin a moment to get back with the program, to stop staring at Kamenashi and actually notice the guy Kamenashi is talking to.

Apparently they all adopted a volunteer to sponsor. Kamenashi's is an old guy with thinning oily hair and watery eyes that go wide when the camera zooms in on him. The waist of his pants is too high, pinching into a pot belly, and he's sweating, a lot and clearly feeling out of place amongst all those pretty and glamorous people.

Nervous to be talking to Kamenashi, too. Another fan.

God, Koichi can have him. Not that Jin wishes him on anybody, but if someone's keen on being the focus of Kamenashi's schizo issues, hey… not like Jin was applying for the job.

"This is ridiculous." Yuu-chan.

Who at least doesn't look worried, only vaguely contemptuous. Maybe Kamenashi apologizing was good for something.

And now Kamenashi is explaining all the wonderful things that old guy did for bullied employees, with more fake friendliness for the camera than Jin's seen even when he did his Desirable Client act in the lounge, for pretty much everyone else.

Apparently it had to be Jin, for whatever fucking reason. But that's all over now. Kamenashi can practice his bullying on someone else, he no longer gets to do it to Jin.

The old guy speaks slowly, nothing organized or intimidating about him. So nervous he forgets what the questions were. It's almost cruel to have him there, Jin thinks, and he feels himself squirming in sympathy.

Kamenashi puts an arm around his shoulders, which makes Jin shudder inside, the poor old guy. Though the guy doesn't seem to mind.

"Eww, gross!" Jun shakes his head in a fake shiver.

"Where did they dig him up?" Koichi wants to know.

"He is kind of gross," Yuuya concurs, making a face. "I've had clients like that."

He's right, Jin thinks. A fancy suit, better hair and more confidence, and this guy wouldn't be much different from a client. Hell, Jin would take this guy over Kamenashi any time, suit or no.

They show the sweating old guy carting around mailings and nailing a pin board to an office wall, and he's not getting any better-looking. His belly wobbles under his yellow t-shirt with the _You are not alone_ print. Jin missed whether he's a pensioner or not. Jin also doesn't know why he cares.

It's a short clip, though, and then it's Kamenashi interviewing him… or pretending to, _how long did it take you to put the wallpaper on_ , fascinating stuff, in a low kind of voice that almost forgets the mic. Koichi has to turn the volume up just so they understand the dialog.

"Not getting that much screen time," Shota observes.

"No," Koichi says. "They could really put him a bit more front and center, he's the biggest star they've got."

"Should have picked the kid, then," Shota says without much sympathy. "Not some gross old guy." The gross old guy is smiling and doesn't know where to rest his watering eyes, as flustered over Kamenashi in the pre-recorded clips as he is in the studio. Kamenashi nods a lot, as if to approve of every two words the guy gets out, and the show cuts back to studio after two more questions because they're simple and a little boring.

"He'd do well with a client," Shota says, and though he can't disagree, the thought of Kamenashi downstairs, turning his creep superpowers on the clients, makes Jin shudder. "Sure has that one wrapped around his finger."

They're showing the actress now, and her special project and brand new friend is a young woman; a teacher. She's pretty and shy and the camera likes her much better. So does the show, spending time on her little home video and her bonding moment with the senior actress. The school where she works. Back to the studio, and she gives full-sentence answers to the questions she gets and she still looks pretty, and Jin is glad to find Kamenashi has faded into the background along with his gross client.

And there's the kids again, milling around the two women, and Sakurai lifts up a little girl and looks endearing and fatherly with her as he lists achievements throughout the country for the next five minutes. Yuuya asks what the point of all this is, and Jun gestures open-palmed at the TV.

"We're watching Kamenashi. Koichi wouldn't have tuned in for Mr Sweat Glands and the Dancing Bunnies otherwise."

Koichi flips him off.

Just at the side of the frame, Kamenashi is sticking close to his gross old guy, talking, smiling with his head tilted low. The guy has stopped staring at his feet every time he utters a sentence, though Jin can't tell what they're talking about.

"I don't know why they stuck him with that guy," Koichi grumbles again. "He's just in the background now."

"I don't think they're polling gay escorts for their target audience."

"Dunno, their gay quota is pretty high."

Jin thinks Kamenashi is better in the background. Less annoyingly bright and fake, and also less _there_.

Though Jin still catches him leaning in, even closer to the guy as he repeats something, puts a hand on the guy's arm. He's got to know the camera isn't really on him there.

"Aaaand going for extra credit," Jun says. Seen it, too, and he seems to find this terribly amusing. "Those are some acting skills."

It doesn't actually look like acting. There's something— no edge. And no spotlight either.

"He'd be luxury in no time," Shota says.

Jun snorts. "Not with that lack of discrimination. You can't just fuck anything that comes in the door."

"Maybe Koichi could train him up. I'm sure he'd be happy to."

"Fuck you, too."

"Hey, as long as I don't have to fuck Kamenashi's gross guy…"

Jun is giggling, throwing Jin a sly glance again. "Yeah, better make sure he showers before next time."

Yeah, right. "Whatever," Jin says.

"Like _you_ only fuck the hot ones," Koichi says to Jun.

Still in the background, Kamenashi is explaining something with slow, curious gestures, a thoughtful face.

"Maybe it's a punishment game," Shota suggests eventually, after Koichi has cracked up at Jun's joke about some judge from Romania and they both settle down more peacefully. "Charm the ugliest volunteer."

"You grow with your challenges," Jun concedes benignly. "If you can fake it for _that_ , you can do anything."

And Jin thinks… that that's not fake. He thinks—

Next close-up is Kamenashi, with a glossy smile and a charming, meaningless answer for the presenter's stupid question, and every nerve Jin has flares with annoyance. Yeah, good show.

He really doesn't know why he's still watching. He's pretty sure it won't feel like running away now.

Kamenashi makes some cheery sugary plea for support and recognition, and Sakurai makes a clever joke and Kamenashi laughs giddily, and suddenly Jin is grateful because now it all looks so phony, you don't even need to be the sole audience of Kamenashi's trips to the dark side to see it.

He stands up slowly. "Better get back to work," he says. "Enjoy the rest."

It prompts Yuuya to rise, too. He still looks cute with the messy wet hair and the t-shirt with a yellow smiley face on it. Jin is so glad they have both put Kamenashi behind them. "And I'll get dressed."

Jin slips his jacket on, stopping briefly when Jun starts angling for his shoes. He feels weird asking, but he'll wait if Jun is coming, too.

Jun looks at him for a moment, and then sighs dramatically. "Nah," he says. "Who knows, that guy might still be hanging _around_." He sounds like he'd consider that a grave breach of manners, and Jin can't help laughing a little.

"I can warn you," he offers, and Jun gives him a little wave as he opens the door, leaves his colleagues to their break and Kamenashi to his performance.

### Thursday 09 October

"What the fuck, where is your engine gone?" Jin mutters, but he's talking to himself.

The cars are casting long pools of shadow on the asphalt, and when he isn't digging among wires and pipes Jin tries hard to keep his eyes on those, not to blink up accidentally into the low sun and blind himself for the next minute or two. He wipes his hands on his jeans. They're dirty from crawling around under the car anyway, and he doesn't have to be careful.

It's coming back to him what all the parts are, even though it still feels like forever since he's done this; another life. After Naoki left, Jin didn't hang out at the garage where Naoki's friends fixed their bikes. No one he knew later even owned a car or bike or anything better than a rusty bicycle from a scrap heap.

A normal engine definitely has more… tubes. Stuff. Still, the car was running, twice around Japan if the odometer's right, and it was clearly running without all the tubes so that's not the problem, it's just weird.

He thinks he knows what the problem is.

He steps back so his own shadow doesn't fall on dirty metal and wiring. Tomo should probably get an oil change soon, though that's not the problem, either. Jin fumbles in his back pocket for one of the screwdrivers they managed to scrounge up in the bar. There wasn't much by way of tools, but it should be enough for this. Tomo will be relieved.

Jin waits a few more moments, tapping out the beat of his song with his foot. He doesn't lean on the bumper; not his car. He's had a really good day, sleeping deep and long but not so late he missed out on the fine weather. Now the sun hangs low between the roofs, a soft light shining off the green and yellow of the trees, and even the parking lot feels kind of peaceful.

He kicks a loose bit of asphalt between his feet, gently, so it doesn't hit a car.

The sun is warm on his face, still strong enough that he can wear just a t-shirt without feeling a chill. It's not a bad wait.

Then Tomo comes out, waving the flashlight he found. He nipped inside to see how they're getting on with setting up the tech for the Open Mic, but the left side of his nose is still dark with grease. His smile is a little anxious.

"I think your fuel pump is blocked," Jin tells him when he's close enough. Tomo's in a long-sleeved shirt, black as his undyed, unstyled hair, but at least being outside and poking around in the car brought some colour into his face.

Now he stares at Jin as if he's too afraid to ask whether he's talking about something along the lines of a new set of wipers or a new engine.

"It's not really bad," Jin says quickly. "There's nothing actually wrong with it, it's just some wires."

"Oh!" Tomo says on a great breath of relief. "Oh. Right."

"I think you triggered the kill switch somehow."

Tomo nods very slowly, like he's trying not to look too clueless.

"You have that thing? So it doesn't get stolen?" Jin makes an awkward gesture towards nothing in particular. It feels weird to be the one who knows stuff, it's not like he's an expert or anything. "It's kind of unusual."

"Oh," Tomo says again. "Yeah, I have to hold a magnet to that place so it'll start."

"Yeah, that… you bought it used, right?" Stupid question. The car could almost be as old as Tomo. Jin ducks his head and frowns at the dirty car intestines. "It's a self-made thing."

"Hm. I've always wondered about that," Tomo says, giving the green-and-rust pattern along the edge of the hood a squinty look. "Who'd steal that. But, well." He makes a face. "I know I'd be in trouble if I didn't have it, so… I guess there's a market for really crappy old cars." He looks pretty gloomy when he says it, but then he looks at Jin and tries a smile.

"I think I can fix it," Jin hazards. He was nervous when he offered to have a look, but Tomo only seemed worried about Jin getting all greasy and inconvenienced.

"Really?"

"I think so. Basically, I can take out the whole thing, return it to normal? I mean, it won't be quite as safe, but it'll run."

"I'll take that," Tomo says right away. "That would be great."

"Okay," Jin nods, still nervous, but also glad it wasn't something more serious and Tomo won't have to get it towed and pay the money for a mechanic. "So, uh, can you hold that?"

Tomo holds the flashlight after Jin reassures himself he knows which bits are connecting the brakes and he's not going to kill anyone accidentally.

"It just stopped going," Tomo says after a moment, in a slightly intimidated tone. The cone of light moves a bit when he talks. "And I thought, man, I don't need this."

Jin can imagine. Tomo has told him how tight money can get, with his brother in junior high and no parents around. The errand and delivery job is just one of three Tomo has. The people he brings their shopping seem to like him, and no wonder; he's so easy to talk to, even for Jin who doesn't have much he can say.

"Do you have deliveries tomorrow?"

"Yes. Five people, and Nyanko-chan. I don't know what she does with those huge orders, she's all alone except for a dog."

"Huh."

"She's really nice, though," Tomo says. "Gives me a fish sometimes and stuff."

Jin remembers when he was sixteen and helped with the shopping for old Takahashi-san from two floors up. She had a dog, too, but it was mean and yappy and bit him once. She was nice to Taro-chan and told him not to worry when Ooshima-san from the ground floor complained about his football playing. "That's cool."

"Yeah."

Jin takes the flashlight for a moment to trace one of the wires, and then he shows Tomo where to point the light next. They probably have half an hour before it gets dark, but he should be finished before that.

"Emi-san is holding the fort?" he tries, with a nod towards the bar entrance.

"Yes, she's keeping an eye on things. Any more of this and they'll have to start paying her, not me." Tomo is shaking his head. "I guess I'm lucky it didn't happen in the middle of the expressway," he goes on, and then there's a smile in his voice. "And lucky you came in early."

Jin feels a bit embarrassed. "I really like it here," he says, carefully bending back a worn piece of wire from the ones he'd better not cut off. He spent the afternoon in the park, catching the sun and watching normal people with their kids and their dogs and their shopping. On Thursdays, it doesn't feel so weird. He's gotten quite good at not thinking of any clients or appointments at all on Thursdays.

And people have started to recognize him here, the tech guys and some of the regulars. And Tomo almost seems to expect him to come in, and he likes that.

He's got the extra bits out now and hands them to Tomo, who drops them on the ground and then concentrates on the flashlight again, so Jin can continue.

"Is that— do you do that for work?" Tomo asks, sounding curious and friendly.

Jin doesn't stop. He didn't think about that before he offered, but it's not such a surprising question. Nothing to be so nervous about; easy to brush off, manoeuvre around. "No," he says. "I just picked up some stuff, a few years ago."

Tomo makes an understanding sound. "From your dad?"

God. Dad and that motorcycle, Dad and Naoki…

But Tomo doesn't know about his father, doesn't know that Jin can't go home, or why.

That's good. People finding out has never gone well for him. And it's good to know Tomo won't push, because he never does; no need to worry.

"No," Jin says again. "A guy I used to know." It's not even lying. Not really.

"Ah," Tomo says, and then nothing. It'll end here like always, and Jin can come to the bar and Tomo won't look at him funny or stop talking to him or think Jin's songs are lame and wimpy.

"My ex."

He tries not to count out the silence, tries not to do anything different with his hands.

His grip feels slippery. Tomo next to him has gone really quiet. The light cone is steady, and Jin thinks his fingers look clumsy fumbling with the wires, useless. Maybe he should stop. Maybe he should look.

"Car guy, huh?" Tomo asks. The light doesn't waver.

"Motorcycles," Jin says. It comes out a little mumbly. "But, well. Same principle, a lot of it. He knew all sorts of stuff. Taught me the basics."

"That's useful." There's a bit of movement. Tomo rubbing his nose again. Tomo is nervous.

It takes Jin two tries to keep the wire from slipping out under the screw.

"Emi-chan taught me how to bake cookies," Tomo says, and now Jin does look at him. "And, you know, not a bad skill to have when you have to feed a fourteen-year-old, you wouldn't believe what they eat. We save lots of money." Tomo breaks into a sheepish smile and shrugs at the open hood. "Cars is cooler, though."

Jin laughs, low and a little breathless.

"Seriously," Tomo says. He has flushed a bit. Jin's face doesn't feel cold anymore, either.

"I'm almost done," he says, his voice sounding a bit weird. He turns back to the last fiddly bit. "Hope it'll work."

"Great."

Tomo hasn't moved away, and he doesn't startle when Jin straightens up and their elbows bump by accident.

"I have a little brother, too," Jin says, though just now he's thinking of Yuu-chan and nothing being weird, how glad he is for that, and then he doesn't know why he's thinking that, or why he's saying _this_ , but he's feeling a bit jittery, something between worry and relief; in a minute he'll even be able to tell the difference. "He's thirteen. He lives back home, though, we don't talk often."

Tomo nods again, goes, "Hm, yeah," and doesn't prod.

And then Jin is done, and they wipe their hands on the rag Tomo brought out the first time. Once Jin's checked that the car will, in fact, start now, Tomo rolls up the equipment in it, and they step back to examine the damage done to their presentability.

The black stains on Jin's t-shirt where he wasn't careful will wash off with warm water, though Tomo looks over Jin's jeans with a guilty expression.

Jin really doesn't mind at all. "I can go home change, it's no problem," he says. He's actually got more than one pair of trousers now, and they aren't all suits. "And it's just a few blocks from here."

"Oh, of course." Tomo looks relieved. "That's great. But you have to come back."

Jin has a feeling his smile looks pretty stupid.

It's verging on dark now, though they should still have some time before anything at the bar really starts, as long as the set-up is going smoothly.

"I think I got that stuff into my hair," Tomo says with a frown, trying to peer up into his fringe.

"Uh, yeah." Jin can see where it's looking a bit clumpy. And Jin loves the bar, but it's not the kind of place that pays a lot of attention to state-of-the-art bathrooms. He thinks quickly, but he never leaves club stuff lying around, likes his apartment to be in order. "You want to come back with me to clean up? If you don't want to wash it out in the men's room. I've got towels and stuff. It's not far." He stops himself from saying any more. Normal generally means you don't overexplain. And he's breathing quite normally too.

Tomo heaves another sigh of relief. "That would be great."

On their brisk walk Tomo tells him how he bought the car and how long he had to save for it, and there's a complicated story involving an ancient scooter he tried to trade in. Jin mentions the missing half of his engine and after a confused blink Tomo finds it funny, too. Jin still worries if he forgot anything, if he's so removed from ordinary life that Tomo will take one look around in his apartment and know how he earns his rent. But he can't come up with anything that would give him away except the expensive suits in his closet.

They're in the elevator together and Jin gets more nervous with every number that lights up. He's on the fourth floor, the highest of the building.

His next door neighbours have a sprawly green plant sitting under their name plate. Jin has never seen them. He doesn't have anything as personal outside his own entrance.

He opens the door to soft orange light on his white walls and shelves. Jin's apartment gets evening sun. The friendly glow still surprises him; he's so rarely home at this time of day.

They both kick off their shoes, and then Tomo has his understated look around while Jin fidgets.

"Nice," Tomo says in an impressed sort of voice. "That's a really cool place."

"Thanks," Jin says, and goes to wash his hands over the small pile of plates in the kitchen sink so he can touch things before cleaning up properly. The apartment is a decent size for Tokyo and very modern, white, sleek; nothing that's older than a few years. The kitchen unit looks like it was put up yesterday. Better than anything Jin's lived in before. He's not proud of it; not his choices, nothing that really belongs to him, but he's still glad Tomo thinks it looks good.

His dinner table folds down from the wall, and he's got two rather classy folding chairs. There are a few shelves right beside the door, and suddenly Jin wonders whether it looks weird that he's got so little on them.

His bed is a fold-in couch, and right now he's extra glad he makes it properly every Thursday morning. He likes things to look right when he comes home, on Thursdays.

"I'll just get you a towel," he says to Tomo and goes over to the wardrobe, opening the door just enough to grab the nearest one. Tomo nods, standing in the middle of the room and looking like he doesn't want to touch anything.

"It's really tidy." That sounds even more impressed.

It really isn't. Jin just doesn't own much, and he gets sloppy…

Only the small desk next to the sofa is neat and blank, everything sorted carefully into drawers, no clutter and no confusion. Even the pens are capped and working. Totally different from the desk he shared with Hisato.

He pulls out a pair of jeans for himself and closes the wardrobe door, shrugs. "I like knowing where stuff is, in case…" Tomo looks up, curious. Crap. "You know, so I can find it," he finishes lamely.

"Cool," Tomo says. "Wish we were that organized."

"Just a second, okay?" he says, bringing the towel over to Tomo before taking his jeans into the bathroom with him. He washes his hands again, and his face, too. Then he puts the shampoo on the side of the sink, and checks around again one last time. Nothing to be seen, not that he knows what there possibly could have been.

"Here you are," he says to Tomo when he comes out, and holds the door open for him. "Hairdryer hangs on the back of the door if you need it."

Then Tomo is in the bathroom with the water running, and Jin pushes some old socks under the folding couch before he sits down on it. The new jeans feel stiff, or maybe he just feels awkward. It's not all that tidy, not everywhere. Tomo hasn't had a look at the kitchen sink yet.

He's never had a guest before. Or anyone who's seen the inside of his apartment after Ootomo dropped him off and explained how the burglar alarm worked and where not to drill holes in the wall. Closest was the mailman when Jin ordered CDs online.

But now there's Tomo from the bar, and Tomo knows Jin had a boyfriend, and he's currently washing his hair in Jin's bathroom sink.

He gets up again, gets a jacket for later because the nights are getting cooler now. And then he takes two beers out of the fridge because that seems like a smart thing to do.

He spends a minute thinking about whether it's presumptuous to fold the table down, and then the bathroom door opens, Tomo emerging free of grease and rubbing at his wet hair with one of the towels which are still so new, they don't even dry properly.

So Jin hands him a beer while they're still standing.

"Thanks. This is really bad." Tomo shakes his head, and some droplets land on Jin's fingers. "You fixed my car, I should buy _you_ a beer."

"It's fine," Jin says, waves it off with a hand that feels a little clumsy. Tomo is the guy behind the bar and Jin could probably find something witty to say in relation to beer-buying, or at least something cool. But he's not feeling like either.

The sun is gone when they head back to the bar together, but Jin's not feeling cold. The booze, of course, he thinks, and the tune Tomo is humming, and the way they're grinning when Jin catches him at it.

 

### Monday 13 October

"You done this before?" Takahisa sounds bouncy and a little excited, flexing his wrists curiously and looking totally not intimidating.

Jaejoong is dressed already. "Just with the hand. I think this will be more efficient."

Jin has brushed his teeth and put fresh deodorant on, and now he's trying not to be in anybody's way. It's your typical Monday; kind of rushed without bringing in that much money, high turnover. He's just back from his second relaxation.

Takahisa is shirtless and hunting for a fresh towel in his locker. "Yeah, that's what I'm thinking," he says. No towel, but he finds a protein bar to nibble on. Jin's not sure who else they're waiting for, but he doesn't ask. "The last time I did the cop thing it would have been really useful, so…" He shrugs pleasantly. "Don't want it done to me, though."

"I don't care." Jaejoong folds a pair of sweatpants and puts them into his appointment bag. "The bottom is more money."

The guy Tsukada brought along had seemed interested in Jin; googly-eyes-and-flushing interested, not that Tsukada noticed. Jin wonders if it would be bad form to approach him if he's still around, after he just saw Jin go off with Tsukada. It's a bit unpleasantly by-the-numbers, but a job's a job, and some guys don't care at all.

They all look when Hina sticks his head in the door. "Yo," he says. "Here to pick up the class."

"Our volunteer's late," Takahisa informs him.

"I'm late," Tadayoshi is saying no sooner than Hina has come in, stepping through the door behind him. "Guess that'll be some punishment, huh?"

Hina smacks him on the ass as he passes, and Tadayoshi jumps forward and grins.

Hina drops into the armchair while Tadayoshi packs something more comfortable to wear to the dungeon. "Hey, Jin, how's it going?" He's wearing heavy boots and his black leather work pants and a green _I Like Sushi!_ t-shirt. He leans back with his legs sprawling, taking up space beyond the armchair.

"Pretty good," Jin says, tries a smile. "It was a good weekend." He saw Ohishi on Saturday and it wasn't weird; Jin even left the lounge before him on a comfort. And on Friday Tanaka was in, and he managed not to let it distract him much from getting work done. He's pleased with himself.

"Were you at the room party?" Hina asks.

"No. My Saturday guy isn't so much into karaoke." It had been easy and quiet with Yamatani. They'd kissed this time, which was new, but there'd been a feeling it could fit now. Maybe Yamatani just doesn't like kissing strangers, either.

Hina nods like he didn't miss much. "I ended up dancing with that old chicken farm dude." It makes them both grin. Jin is a bit curious if that's not bad for his reputation, but then he doesn't ask that either.

"I was pretty wasted," Hina admits just as the door opens. Ootomo, looking straight at Jin.

"Jin," he announces, and then stops. "What are you all doing here?" He sounds slightly irritated even though it's their break room. "Don't you have work to do?"

Jin rises. Hina twists his head backwards. "We are working. Staff development."

"Hm." Ootomo must know they booked the dungeon. He's just pissy because he always gets pissy in the break room, because it's not his turf. Jin doesn't feel at any great advantage being in here, and he wonders why they don't just go to Ootomo's office. Just the way Ootomo is hovering tense and out of place is making Jin uncomfortable too, and now they're both standing there like idiots.

"Are we taking costumes?" Tadayoshi asks when he's ready, sounding good-humoured about it.

"I don't play roles," Jaejoong says matter-of-factly.

Hina shakes his head. "Nope, this is just tech. Would be more realistic if Tacchon's ass was a bit fatter, but what can you do."

Tadayoshi smiles an apologetic smile. "Don't hate me for my hotness, I was born that way."

Jin can just feel Ootomo's impatience ratchet up. If he could think of anything he could have possibly fucked up in the last two weeks, he'd worry about Ootomo's mood. Right now he's just puzzled, and kind of wishing he'd stayed in his chair.

"All right," Hina says, pushing himself out of the chair. "Rows of two, no crossing the street without a teacher, and no talking to strangers." He shoos them on, and they file out in a well-behaved line, Tadayoshi last.

Ootomo looks after them, trying to make an approving managerial face. "Still not your cup of tea, I take it?" he asks lightly, like he's not even interested in the answer.

Jin is pretty sure Ootomo didn't come in to talk about staff development. "No."

"Ah, well." Ootomo shrugs, and then all of a sudden he looks more engaged. "So, Jin, listen."

Jin is listening. Also wondering if he should ask Ootomo to sit down. Probably not.

"I had a call from Kamenashi earlier."

Okay. Listening, seriously. His heart is beating faster, not like before but still… "What did he want?" Though he can guess. So much for Kamenashi and a change of habit; but if Ootomo meant it about refusing, Kamenashi can go right to hell…

"He wanted to book you for Friday. I said I had to check your schedule first."

Sounds like Ootomo meant it.

And his heart's still thumping, but it doesn't steal his breath this time. Doesn't do anything except make him want to laugh over the shiver in his stomach, because Kamenashi's not even unexpected anymore.

Only this time Jin can walk away. Jin can just tell Kamenashi to fuck off. Or tell Ootomo to tell him. Politely.

"Right."

Ootomo shifts his weight impatiently. Probably wishes he had his desk back. "I'm not deciding that one over your head, either way. It's a rest, and for what it's worth, he sounded kind of careful."

"Careful how?"

With eye-rolling now. "Like he's aware I would want to 'check your schedule' first."

"Right."

It's not even a question. Jin's not taking that last display of clumsy niceness at face value, never did, doesn't care if Kamenashi likes babies and bunnies and gross old guys and helps little ladies cross the street. Whatever Kamenashi's problem is with Jin's existence that he can't leave him alone and can't even treat him like he treats his regular whores either…

Kamenashi can fuck _right_ off.

"I don't like that it's at the apartment," Ootomo says with narrowing eyes. "But I can't well tell him to come to the club instead. So, your call."

His call. It's never been his call before. Never his terms before.

He wonders what that would be like. His terms, Ootomo on his side, nobody thinking he's incompetent or weird, Kamenashi's just an asshole with bizarro asshole issues where you have to be grateful if he wants to fuck you like some normal person...

Not that Jin is grateful anymore.

"Yeah, I guess," he says, to say something while his brain is catching up. Ootomo is trying to be fair to him. It's a shitload of money, that's why he's asking.

And Kamenashi's not sneaking up on him now, Kamenashi doesn't get to tie him up and call him names and then pretend he's Mr Perfect Client anymore.

Jin wonders if Kamenashi knows that too.

"If…" He can't believe he's even asking.

Ootomo is doing his best benevolent boss impression, hearing him out.

Okay, whatever. "If I went," Jin asks, tries out the thought. "What if he flips?" Unstable. They talked about it.

"If you get a bad feeling about things, you walk," Ootomo says firmly. "I trust you to know what you can handle."

Trust. Handle. His call. Suddenly Jin's judgement is worth something.

And he wants to smile, because this is better than just no bondage. He can walk out on _all_ the creepy shit, he doesn't have to stand for any of it any more.

Kamenashi will keep coming here, he's come here before Ootomo even found Jin. They will run into each other.

Jin's not alone now, not desperate. He could see how Kamenashi deals with _that_. What he's like when he can't just get away with things, when Jin can just go and fuck him like he'll fuck some random client, and there'll be nothing…

Nothing like last time… and Jin almost shudders but then he doesn't, because he doesn't have to let that happen now, he's not _afraid_ anymore. He can make it not matter anymore.

Make a week's income in one stroke, too. He thinks he's earned it.

Rest with Kamenashi.

Ootomo is looking at him, probably wants a yes or no sometime this decade for all his pointed patience. Wants to get back to work, maybe. Maybe Jin should get back to work too.

"All right," he says, "I'll take it," and his stomach does a little lurch but then it's okay, just a low determined brimming.

His call. And someone looking out for him. Club security. It feels a bit like that first time he went to a client's house on club schedule, and realized how different it felt from before.

Huh.

Ootomo is hard to read, somewhere between impressed and constipated. He sounds strict, saying, "I expect you to call it in like you would with a first-time client," and Jin nods. "After you get in, and then every three hours. _Don't_ miss the calls."

"I never do," Jin says honestly.

"Yeah," Ootomo says. "Good. Friday at eight." And there's another long look, but Ootomo says nothing more and leaves him to ponder the fact that he's got a date with Kamenashi, and he even agreed to it.

Jin takes a deep breath, stops his brain from spinning off into scenarios and possibilities and bargaining over if and when and never.

Work now.

And Kamenashi is work too, and that's all he is.

Right.

~

 _Chapter 21 to follow 27/07/2011_


	21. Chapter 21

### Friday 17 October

"And? How is it?"

"I got your message," Jin says, the shorthand for their all clear, the line that means the client doesn't exhale the crazy and there's no bloody axe anywhere in sight. He keeps his voice low in case Kamenashi hasn't yet figured out what Jin is visiting the toilet for. "The scheduling looks fine."

Ootomo's voice at the other end is slow in coming. "You're sure?"

"Yes. I don't see any clashes." No weirdness, no ropes, no ties. Just a slightly stiff client, meticulous politeness, and food he didn't expect. He wishes he hadn't had that snack an hour ago. At least he won't need the peanut bar he packed just in case Kamenashi was going to starve him. "I need to get going, though."

That's all he has to say for now. Their code doesn't cover details.

"Okay," Ootomo says, "three hours," and they both ring off.

Jin flushes the toilet and washes his hands, just pro forma. Then he steps back out into the softly lit living space, where Kamenashi has kept busy and is putting an open bottle of red wine next to the bottle of white on the table set for two.

The same piece of classical music is still playing in the background.

A date with Kamenashi. Dinner, with Kamenashi. And he just told Ootomo how normal everything seems, too.

Jin nods in apology for the interruption, and Kamenashi nods back.

A bloody axe would feel less bizarre.

Kamenashi puts the corkscrew down but doesn't sit. "I hope you haven't eaten," he says, with a slow glance over the table. "I should maybe have said something. I usually…" He looks back at Jin; even his tension looks slow, considered. "Well."

Jin refrains from comment. Doesn't even think about a comment. "It smells delicious," he says. He hasn't really noticed, but you can't go wrong with that. He pays a bit more attention now while Kamenashi gets the second dish out of the oven; it's a fresh, tart scent. There's chicken in it, and it smells good.

Kamenashi takes the oven mitts back into the kitchen area. So they don't disturb the pretty arrangement. Cloth napkins, gleaming cutlery, an artsy cooler for the white wine. All that's lacking is candles; thank fuck.

Then Kamenashi motions towards the chairs in a hesitant invitation. "Would you like to sit down, please?"

Jin does that.

Kamenashi lowers himself carefully, adjusting his chair; straightening his back as if he could sit any tenser. Then they stare at each other.

It's weird to do that when he's not scared.

Kamenashi looks away first, but it's measured, filtered through control.

Jin lets his eyes wander, reads… the labels on the bottles, okay, wonders if it's French or Spanish; doesn't care. The self-consciousness isn't his problem. This whole thing was Kamenashi's idea.

"I…" Kamenashi clears his throat. "Thank you for coming over."

Jin thinks. Stares again. Tries to think a little faster when he sees meaning under Kamenashi's tight blankness. But there's nothing he can say to this that won't sound wrong – sarcastic or presumptuous or fake like Kamenashi's TV smiles. "This looks very nice," he says in the end.

"Good, I'm glad." Kamenashi's hands are at the edge of the table, smoothing down imaginary wrinkles where the white satin tablecloth meets the tastefully patterned runner. He glances over the table as if he doesn't know where to start.

The rice is steaming in its square blue dish; a faint scent of olive oil and garlic is rising from the salad bowl. There's a twirl of violins in the background. Belatedly, Jin slides the napkin off the table and spreads it over his lap.

Kamenashi's eyes have followed the movement. He waits until Jin is settled, sitting still, and then he takes another deep breath. "I was hoping we could do things differently this time," he says, with another tense little glance at all the finery. "I haven't… I mean, we haven't had the chance…" He's flushed a little, and there's a quick press of his lips, a nervous flick of his tongue before his voice goes solid. "I prefer this."

Good thing Jin hasn't had a drink yet. Good thing he has his mouth shut and has practice at keeping it shut, and doesn't give answers one through seven that come to mind while Kamenashi sits rigid in front of him, his eyes dark as if keeping them on Jin is an effort.

"I prefer this, too," is what he says, clipped and firm.

Kamenashi bites his lip once and nods, like they've established something – like he's glad, uncomfortable but glad.

What the fuck.

Then Kamenashi arranges his own napkin before he goes back to staring at the food.

Maybe he should practice the nice dates he prefers a little more often, instead of suffering through those domination exercises that are so totally not his bag.

"I wasn't sure what you'd like," Kamenashi says, sounding uncertain. He indicates the chicken with a tentative motion. "I ordered chicken."

Jin takes a moment but then he nods, confirming that it is, indeed, chicken.

"Lemon roasted," Kamenashi adds.

Jin approves of that too.

"But there's beef as well." In a creamy sauce with mushrooms, and Kamenashi studies it for a moment. "Like I said, I didn't know…" He shrugs tightly.

It's too bad they've already covered the weather.

But it reminds Jin he came for a job, and this time nobody made him, and even if sitting around trading silences with Kamenashi is preferable to anything else they've ever done together, it's still not the best way to manage an appointment.

They did that last time, but Jin was scared then. Jin wasn't there by choice.

"I like both of these," he says, and seeing the slight relaxation in Kamenashi's posture, he's glad it's even true. "I like most things, really," he offers.

"That's good," Kamenashi says, and doesn't seem to know how to continue from there.

So they're back to silence, except for the gently harmonizing flutes in the background. The mix seems familiar from some late night shopping ad. It's pretty enough, if not music Jin would have picked out for himself. Miles better than that godawful sex rhythm stuff he doesn't ever want to hear again, anyway.

So he takes the plunge. Maybe it'll help. "That's very nice music. What is it?"

To his surprise, Kamenashi flushes a little more, faint pink going all the way down to where his throat meets the pristine white shirt.

"I'm not really sure," he says. "It's a compilation. Classical. Mozart and people like that." He shrugs a bit. "I find it relaxing. But if you'd prefer something else…"

"No," Jin says, "I agree. It's relaxing."

"What sort of music do you normally like?" Kamenashi is clutching at the conversational straw.

Jin tries a smile, remembers to look open. "This sort of thing is very nice. But I like lots of different kinds of music." He's not going to specify. The truth is none of Kamenashi's business.

"Just like you like lots of different kinds of food," Kamenashi nods.

Is he memorizing this?

"Yes, I do," Jin confirms, and then he figures he might as well run with it. "What sort of food do you like best?"

"I like Italian food a lot," Kamenashi says. He looks glad he's got a straightforward answer.

"Pasta," Jin tries. "You like pasta?"

"Pasta is fine," Kamenashi says. "I also like risotto. And they can do amazing things with veal and with roasted vegetables."

Not really what Jin thinks of when he thinks Italian food, but, well, no surprise there. He nods companionably anyway.

Another long stare, and Kamenashi blinks, uncertain again. "Would you like some wine?" he asks then. A gesture indicates one of the bottles. Their labels look as classy as the ones at the club, though Jin is not good with names and vintages, knows only the basics they taught him so he can pass in the company of the rich and worldly.

"Red, please," he says.

Kamenashi takes the bottle. He looks smoother with something to do, and the shirt is well–chosen, the cut flattering, the collar a bit more elegant than you'd wear to the office. "This is…" He smiles, and it comes out awkward. At least he's not trying to hit Jin with the full fake superstar wattage. "I hope you like it. I've had it before and I think it's good, but I don't actually remember why it's famous."

Jin nods, tries a smile as he watches Kamenashi pour, his fingers wrapped sure and steady around the red of the bottle.

He'd do the fingers again, probably. If that's the client's thing, that's not a good enough reason to walk away.

He's made a little list.

It was tricky, trickier than he'd expected. So little of it is about _what_ Kamenashi does. Well. The guy won't get to come on his face ever again. But that's just the start of it.

Kamenashi has opted for red, too, and he's lifted the glass, and Jin feels his skin prickle, wonders if he missed something, if Kamenashi has said something already…

But no; Kamenashi is studying the deep red colour in his glass like he's trying to solve a math problem, and he's gone tense again but it's not directed at Jin.

And Jin's not scared, anyway. He reminds himself of that. He's not intimidated anymore.

Kamenashi shakes himself out of it and tilts his glass a little, gives a very small nod. "I hope you like it."

He doesn't wait for a reply, so Jin doesn't have to come up with one. The wine does taste good – mellow and smooth – and he follows his first large sip up with another, smaller one.

"Yes?" Kamenashi looks tentatively pleased.

"It tastes very good." He puts it down gently on the thick tablecloth. The music flows on in the background, as delicate as Kamenashi's crystal glasses.

"Can I give you some of the beef, then?" Kamenashi asks, almost eagerly, but he waits for Jin to answer with no hint of pressure.

Which is good, because Jin likes the smell of the chicken, and he's not sure why— oh. The red wine, probably. Right. It's not going to be Jin's problem.

"I'd like to try the chicken, please," he says, and Kamenashi doesn't sneer, doesn't even blink, just moves the serving spoon across to the other dish.

Sneering's on the list.

Too vague for standard clients, but Kamenashi's not a standard client. And he can stick his dick in Jin because they all do and it's worth it for the money, but he's not getting to be an asshole about it or treat Jin like a whore too stupid for basic human interaction. Jin holds out his plate so Kamenashi can reach without having to stand up, and still it's a little awkward; the table is more than twice as wide as the one Jin has at home. But Kamenashi doesn't seem to mind, just serves him a moderate portion of the chicken with the care and concentration of someone who's glad he's got something to do.

Last time it was the Caesar salad, and Jin was quiet too. But that was different. Lots of things were different.

Kamenashi prefers this.

Kamenashi takes up the other set of serving spoons and helps himself to some of the beef before he leans back again – and, with a small frown of irritation, disappears under the table. Jin blinks.

But a moment later, Kamenashi is back, holding up the napkin in explanation before he puts it back on his lap.

"Please, help yourself." He indicates salad and rice and various accompaniments in the matching blue dishes with fiddly calligraphy that clearly don't come from the local conbini.

Jin takes a tiny bit of everything, and then Kamenashi gets his own.

He softens when he's distracted. Something about the jaw. It's funny how he can loom, when he's got no height, no bulk. His hair is a little fluffy but tame, like he's taken some care with it, and the brown looks darker in the gentle light. Jin thinks of fucking him when he's not afraid, tries to imagine the normal client things, touching and kissing and working together, but he can't get it without Kamenashi's cold eyes in the picture, a harsh voice and that touch inescapable, just the right places and just the wrong places and nothing someone like Jin can object to.

He shouldn't think of that. Not if he still plans to have conversation over a romantic dinner. His pulse feels fast, but when he checks, his face as blank as possible, Kamenashi hasn't noticed anything.

They eat. Jin can appreciate the quality of the chicken even if he hasn't got much of an appetite.

Kamenashi has a really fussy way of assembling salad bites. Jin wonders if that's killing time, or normal. Jin's taking it slow, too, making the most of his moderate portion.

Kamenashi says things like, "Please, help yourself to more," and "Do you mind if I top up your wine?" and Jin says things like, "This is really delicious," and "Thank you, yes, please." The minutes move slowly.

Jin wonders what to say next. He spent time on lists, on drawing boundaries for himself; tried out sex thoughts and they didn't make him queasy at home. But it didn't occur to him to think about any sideshow, about topics to talk about with Kamenashi.

He should take advantage of this clumsy attempt at normal. He should encourage it.

Jin sips at his wine; smiles when Kamenashi notices and seems pleased.

He'll have to go easy on the drink but on the other hand, if he can't do Kamenashi's food proper justice he should maybe show appreciation of the wine. And it does get a bit easier, too, when the alcohol takes off the edge and the words feel like less of a hurdle.

"I saw you on TV the other day," he says.

Kamenashi lets a green leaf escape the ritualistic spearing, instantly attentive. "I've been doing a lot for the campaign," he says, carefully. He clears his throat. "It's an anti–bullying campaign," he adds, studiedly neutral.

Jin nods, just as careful, just as neutral. "Yes, that's what it was. I saw you and Sakurai–san with the children. From all those schools. And the older stars."

"Yes," Kamenashi says. He seems fascinated by half a cherry tomato. "That was a very big event." A pause, and Jin is just wondering what subject he could try to raise next when Kamenashi abandons the tomato and Jin is presented with the smooth superstar facade, thankfully without the glossy smile. "I was very impressed by the work of the volunteers. The children were amazing. So young, and already so dedicated."

"I thought so, too," Jin says, and thinks that Kamenashi wasn't talking to the children, he was talking to some sweaty ugly guy who didn't get him any screen time.

Kamenashi picks up his wine and moves it to the other side of his plate without drinking. "I was very honoured to be asked," he says. "I think it's an important topic." Another pause; but not long enough for Jin to decide if he's supposed to have an opinion now. "It's only lately that people are paying proper attention to it," Kamenashi says instead. "Well, the government." He looks at Jin again. "Do you…" But he must know Jin can't disagree with him now, after all this. So he stops; leaves the question open and blank and has a sip of wine instead.

"I think it's good there's more attention now," Jin offers. The half of it that's flattery is part of the job, doesn't hurt him. "It's good if adults get involved. Teachers. There's things you shouldn't just wait to get sorted on their own."

Kamenashi has started nodding halfway through. "Yes, I agree."

All this agreement. Bullying is bad for you.

Kamenashi clears his throat again. "Would you like some water, too? I'm sorry I forgot about it."

"Yes, thank you," Jin says.

"I'll get ice, too," Kamenashi says, and while he busies himself getting two bottles of Evian out of the fridge and a clear plastic bag of ice portions out of the little freezer compartment, Jin has a chance to look around without feeling watched.

Kamenashi hasn't forgotten much else. The nice table, the subtle lighting; the music and the thoughtful menu. He's dressed to appeal, the way that signals respect and anticipation in other clients. And they're not at the club, nobody here but Jin.

Well. With Ootomo keeping an eye on things, maybe Kamenashi wants a good report card.

The place in general looks neater than last— no. Not last time. He doesn't remember what it looked like the last time he was in here, he didn't spare it a thought.

Stop. That part is over, so fuck that mind trip. None of this will be like that.

Kamenashi takes two large glasses out of a cabinet. The kitchen is all wood and glass, the floor a dark grey marble; no squeaky white functionality here. Real wood, a finer grain in the cabinets than in the polished planks that cover the rest of the floor, but a matching golden beech hue. There are blue–ish flecks in the marble that match the frosting of the glass panels in the cabinet doors, and, for real, Kamenashi's salad bowls. All very matching.

While Kamenashi dries his hands on a blue–and–white towel, Jin wonders if Kamenashi chose the look himself or if his wife had a hand in it.

The bookcase that sets off the bed area has a few books in it, but some shelves are as empty as Jin's. There's a stereo with not a single stray CD lying sleeveless on top.

It's not a bad place for doing a client. Not too personal; no pictures of the wife and her parents or the last holiday with the kids. But also not as neutral as a hotel room. The single photograph on the shelf is of a group of adults wearing beach shorts, with Kamenashi barely recognizable in the middle of the pile-up because it's badly lit and unflattering. Probably a work thing. There'd be stuff here to pick up on and talk about, if this was a normal client.

So Kamenashi's trying.

He's on his way back now, glasses in hand. The ice tinkles when he puts Jin's down. It's the closest they've been since Jin got in. Kamenashi wears a light, not unpleasant cologne.

"Thank you," Jin says.

Kamenashi shakes his head faintly. "Not at all." Then he sits and attends to his beef again.

It's getting warm, wine and hot food conspiring. With someone else, Jin might take off his tie, might try to be playful about it. He's not eager to take off anything with Kamenashi in the room, but he doesn't balk at the thought this time; sex with Kamenashi, doing it differently, even if the how is vague in Jin's mind. He wouldn't have come here if he didn't think he could make this meaningless business.

It's certainly been different so far.

"If you don't mind me asking," Jin says, with a pause. Kamenashi still looks grateful to be pointed towards useful topics. "This is an unusual building…"

"Ah, that." Kamenashi glances around like he's momentarily forgotten where he lives. "It used to be a warehouse. Candles, I think. The firm went bust after the bubble. It was supposed to become an outlet for some designer label for a while. But the plans kept falling through."

"Hm," Jin says. "Not really the area for designer shopping, is it?"

Kamenashi shakes his head. "No. It had been empty for a while by the time I had it converted."

"You h—" Jin catches himself in time. "It's yours?"

"I got it cheap," Kamenashi says, with a tiny hint of defensiveness.

Jin wonders what he calls cheap. And how much more he paid to get it spruced up. Then again, that's your Johnny's clients for you, and you don't get anywhere dwelling on how rich they are.

"It's a nice building," he says in a properly appreciative tone. "You get a lot of space pretty close to the city centre."

Kamenashi looks unsure if he wants to say more. "It's very convenient," he admits.

Jin goes for an understanding face. Then he takes another bite of the cooling chicken, in case Kamenashi wants space, and tries another smile.

Kamenashi seems to ease up a bit. "It's also quite private, which is hard to come by in central Tokyo."

"Did it take long to get it converted?"

"Almost a year, I think." He looks like he's doing quick math, but then seems to agree with himself. "Once the damp was out and the wiring was in and it was all safety approved, I got them to do up this apartment first of all so I could move in. The rest was done while I was living here. The other apartments are actually newer than this one." He looks around again, this time with a critical expression. "I'm having bits of this re–done right now."

Jin looks at Kamenashi and thinks he can't have been buying warehouses for that long, given his age. "Earthquake damage?" he hazards.

Kamenashi gives a little sigh. "There were some issues with the wiring from the start. It wasn't done well."

Jin doesn't mention the open wall he remembers from the first time. His interest in that didn't seem to go down well. But he tries a more general question about electricians, and when that goes okay, about the other contractors, and the organisation involved in turning a warehouse into living space.

Apparently it's hard when you can't tell the fuse box from the first aid kit, which Kamenashi admits to without sounding like he's above the little people and their menial tasks. He thinks he could have saved some time and hassle if he'd understood all the plans, and says the hardest part was getting people to talk to him in terms he could follow. Though he learned a few things about plumbing when a joint near the main valve burst.

Jin remembers when Ooshima–san flooded the cellar next door with her washing machine, and it's not too personal to mention. By the time they've compared the relative effectiveness of household fans versus industrial dehumidifiers, Jin's second glass of wine is empty and Kamenashi has put his cutlery away.

He speaks more naturally now; still stopping himself, still checking his words after the fact, but Jin doesn't have to prod or be clever about finding a new topic every four sentences. It feels more relaxed when they get to stories about missed deadlines and a window installed upside down and, once, a van full of stones being delivered to Kamenashi's house in Mitaka.

"I was in my pyjamas, in my driveway, and there was a pile of terracotta bricks sitting right there," Kamenashi says, with a warm little flush but his face mostly thoughtful.

"I hate it when that happens before breakfast."

Jin doesn't think about it, just says it. Not the generally recommended method of Kamenashi interaction, but the guy just looks a little surprised, uncertain again… he must really be nervous.

"It was after breakfast," Kamenashi says eventually, a little sheepish. "Believe me, that didn't make it any better."

They smile at each other; Jin might almost mean it.

"You must have problems renting out the other apartments, then," he says, putting images of Kamenashi in pyjamas out of his mind. He doesn't want to know if Kamenashi gets troll hair overnight; he's pretty sure he'll never find out.

"No, they're okay, thank god. I'd feel really bad if…" He gestures around; it looks a bit like he wants to draw the right words out of the air. "When I was younger, we had a landlord who was always… well. There were always problems, when things weren't working."

Jin nods along, doesn't think about where Kamenashi wants to go. It's just clients, telling stories. Part of the job.

"We weren't poor, I don't mean to say that," Kamenashi adds, his face closing with caution. But Jin thinks he gets it. Kamenashi's not trying to paint a rags–to–riches picture for him; maybe he knows how that would go down.

"I like things to run smoothly, that's all."

Noted. Jin keeps his face blank, just gives a little nod, the kind that says nothing at all except he's not disagreeing with the client. And sure, he knows how Kamenashi likes it smooth, and what happens when he doesn't get it.

Probably a useful reminder.

Jin crosses his legs the other way and has another long glance along Kamenashi's designer kitchen while he tries to get his inspiration back.

Kamenashi concentrates on his wine glass, holds it even after his sip. Wrapping up, looks like. Maybe it's getting to be that time. Kamenashi has played nice long enough.

Jin's bet is the bed. But he tries not to wonder, he'll take it as it comes, and he's got a list. He can't see the bed from here, or the couch, but the blinds aren't fully drawn yet, the wide glass door next to the high shelf showing darkness that even with the light on in here doesn't look as dark as it could be. Full moon was just three nights ago; Jin remembers seeing it on his walk home after he had some chum of Nakamaru's for a relaxation around ten, after Yamatani had left, and—

Just a shadow. That looked weird. He takes a breath. He's not freaking out over Kamenashi's balcony.

"Something wrong?" Especially not with Kamenashi in here, not that he's freaking out over Kamenashi anymore either.

"No," he says. "Nothing." But there is it again; and he makes a conscious choice to turn away because what's out there doesn't concern him, and what's in here is his job and likes things to run smoothly.

But Kamenashi is looking at the window now, too, and he's set his glass down and is getting up, grabbing a couple of dishes as he goes.

"Oh, Natsuko," he says. "Give me a moment?"

Jin nods. One of the appreciative tenants, he guesses, come to ask for a new light bulb for the toilet. He sits up a little straighter, and is pretty sure that he'll pass muster as a colleague or whatever who has dropped in for a purely formal business thing.

But after Kamenashi has dumped the dishes in the sink, he doesn't open the balcony door but the window.

"And what have _we_ been up to today?" he says. "All mucky, aren't you."

If this is how he talks to his tenants, something is… something is very…

"Come for your dinner? You want your dinner? You're getting fat, you know?"

Jin cranes his neck.

It's… furry, it's a cat. Poking its head around the window and into the light, sniffing suspiciously, taking a step back to stare at Kamenashi out of big accusing eyes. Maybe Jin's scent is spoiling the mood.

Kamenashi ignores the entire performance, though, or rather doesn't notice because he's busy rummaging in his refrigerator. Jin thinks he may be hearing quiet cursing.

The cat – Natsuko – makes a squeaky sound.

"Right," Kamenashi says, straightening again, and there's something floppy in his hand which he holds out to the cat, which squeaks again.

"Ouch!" Kamenashi jerks his hand back. "Look… fuck. Stop that you little—" He's hissing through his teeth, and Jin's not even breathing. That's not smooth. That's…

Kamenashi is shaking his head. "She always does that," he says in disbelief, turning on the water to run it over the bite. Through the window, Jin catches a glimpse of the cat, munching unashamed on a piece of chicken. Kamenashi was right – it's fat.

There's rattling as Kamenashi pulls out a pack of dry cat food and fills a bowl with it. "You watch it," Kamenashi says, "or no more nice bits for you." And reaches out  for it again, and Jin gets a moment of just looking and feeling like he jumped universes.

Cats. Stray dirty cats and Tatsuya and tenants and Yuu–chan and the youth of Japan. Kamenashi likes everybodymore than Jin.

Kamenashi pats the cat, but carefully, and when he pulls back he goes still, quiet.

And then he looks at Jin, and Jin can _see_ the tension find him again and draw him into tight, polite control.

God, what does Kamenashi even want with him?

"Is she yours?" he tries once he's over that, because he remembers the job and this is an obvious one, even if he knows the answer already.

"No, she lives around here somewhere." Kamenashi turns briefly to close the window after all, then looks around the kitchen, the table, for some sort of masterplan he apparently can't do without and what the fuck. "She seems to know when I'm here. I don't think she comes by on the days when I'm not…" A shrug.

How was it easier before this?

Kamenashi takes the bowls and the stacked-up plates, and turns Jin down when he offers his help for carrying. Not much to be done anyway. Fine by him. He's good just sitting here. Sitting here and not thinking of all the nastiness Kamenashi's decided he deserves, and reminding himself it's fine now, they're doing it _differently_.

Kamenashi had better believe it.

He watches Kamenashi load the dishwasher and throw out the chicken, put the rest of the beef into a box. He'd be attractive, young as he is. Even that focus, the awkward thoughts that show in his frown, the considered moves that tell you he'd be good in bed, if he put his mind to it. And all that date stuff.

Jin still doesn't get it. Kamenashi's not relaxed, not having fun, and all Jin seems to make him is wary and uncomfortable. Jin doesn't even turn him on except when he's helpless on his knees, and that doesn't seem to be on the program for today even in Kamenashi's mind. So why bother? Does he really care so much what gets back to Ootomo?

Kamenashi is back at the table, examining Jin and the nearly barren tablecloth with polite reluctance. "Shall we move to the couch?" he asks. "It'll be more comfortable."

Foreplay, maybe. Sure, why not. "Yes, certainly." Jin stands, slowly because he can't pretend eagerness here, and he feels heavy with stupid thoughts. Kamenashi hasn't taken his wine glass away, and he wonders briefly if he'll get more time, wonders what he was thinking when he thought he had to prove something. Prove he can have sex. With Kamenashi.

"Would you like another drink?" Kamenashi, perfect host voice. "Something stronger, perhaps?" He takes a step back. The liquor cabinet, Jin finds, is one of the slim kitchen units right by the window. "I like a whisky after a meal," Kamenashi says, with a questioning glance.

Yeah, Jin remembers. Remembers it well.

But whatever, he doesn't have to drink it, and he's not as helpless as he used to be, either. "I'll have one, too, thank you. But first…"

He motions with his head towards the toilet. Since he's up anyway, and if they're about to get serious now, he might as well. And maybe a minute by himself to sort his head out properly will do him good.

He takes two minutes and a few deep breaths, reminds himself of the money, of Ootomo, of lists, and then he stands up straight in front of the spotless mirror and tells himself not to be an idiot, and gets back out there.

Kamenashi has poured a glass for each of them, equal amounts. The bottle is plain, with an understated logo breathed onto the glass. Jin moves to the couch at Kamenashi's nod while Kamenashi goes for the ice again.

He picks the corner. Kamenashi can choose how cuddly he wants to get. He crosses his legs so he looks natural, but doesn't lean back just yet.

He has time for another deep breath and the thought of Kamenashi crawling on top of him, the give of the soft leather, and then Kamenashi is there with his concentration and his glasses and his well–dressed cultured performance, and Jin tells himself to fucking stop it already.

Job. Client. Good hygiene, and all those things.

"Perhaps more music would be nice? " Kamenashi says when he puts his own glass down at the other end of the table. "Is there anything in particular—"

If he's asking what music Jin likes to fuck clients to, the answer is none. "Anything will be fine," he says, and Kamenashi starts flipping through his CD collection.

There's nothing going on outside the window now. Maybe only cats can get a peek in anyway. He's surprised Kamenashi hasn't closed the gaps in the blinds for whenever he wants to get serious.

It can't be worse than Eda. No worse than Tsuzuki for sure, or Ishida with his make-up requirements, or the guy who liked to have Jin naked around the hotel room even after fucking just to look at. Not a nice guy like Yamatani, not interesting like…

More strings start a gentle intro. Here it goes. Maybe he can rank Kamenashi after.

"Is more classical okay?" Kamenashi puts a box of white candy things on the coffee table, and sits down in the other couch corner. When Jin nods, he indicates the candy and adds, slightly apologetic, "I didn't order a proper dessert. But I like these. Please do try them."

They're white chocolates with a sticky fruit filling. They taste quite nice, and maybe Jin can manage to eat another one later.

Kamenashi sniffs at his drink and moves the ice around slowly. After a moment, he pulls a knee up on the couch so he can look at Jin better, but it looks practiced and formal, too.

"You like ice in your drinks," Jin says. It's a bit stupid, but if he's here pretending Kamenashi is a normal client, this is the kind of normal thing he might harmlessly observe.

"I like ice with most drinks," Kamenashi repeats with a cooperative nod. He has a tiny sip. "I'm told it's not the proper way to drink whisky, but I prefer it." And there's a weird little look, that tension again, as if Jin will even care.

Jin really doesn't, but he tries his approving face again. Most clients like that. "I know a lot of people who do," he shrugs lightly. "Take ice, I mean." It's true, too.

"Hm. Yeah."

Jin asks about the chocolates, and Kamenashi tells him they're from a place called Hévin's and that he likes their more experimental sorts. Maybe the drink helps Kamenashi, too, because he loses some of the sharp angles, eventually looks more natural with his leg up, his elbow on the back of the couch.

"Thank you for the meal, too," Jin says belatedly. It was rather nice, and this is just polite. "It was very good."

Kamenashi waves it off, the ice circling in the glass with the motion. He looks Jin over, and stops. Thinking… who knows. It feels weird. "If you…" A little breath. If he were some other guy, Jin would read this as shyness. "If you want to get a bit more comfortable…" He lifts his chin. The tie. Right. "I mean, just to sit. There's no need to stay so formal, I think." And then he becomes very fascinated with his whisky again.

Sure, no problem.

Jin puts his hand on the knot. He's going to sleep with Kamenashi; freaking out over taking off some clothes would be a bad start.

He takes it slow and he's not nervous; good. And he checks, but Kamenashi's not watching. No strip show, then. Just to sit. Right.

When he leans back, he makes sure to get comfortable as Kamenashi suggested, makes sure to lean more deeply into the upholstery, lets his legs sprawl a bit. The whisky in his hand keeps him from feeling stupid.

He has another sip. "What kind is this?" he asks, turning the glass just so and telling Kamenashi it's fine to look at what he paid for. Not that he knows much about whiskies, either, but they've been doing okay on the culture questions.

Kamenashi concentrates, and then he makes a sound that resembles a wet cough. "It's been a favourite of mine for a few years," he adds, so Jin gathers it's definitely about the whisky. "I first got it as a gift from a senior colleague."

There's not much Jin can say to that, so he just nods. Kamenashi can elaborate, too, if he wants some real conversation. Then again… "What was the name again?"

Kamenashi repeats the sound. It's definitely unusual. He doesn't think it's English, like the few brands he managed to memorize at the club, Highland Park and Springbank and Black Label.

"Buru–ichi–lattu–ichi," he tries. Somehow it's not quite the same.

Kamenashi repeats it again, strangely hesitant and flushing a little. He makes an approving face when Jin butchers the word a second time.

On the third try, Kamenashi assures him it sounds nearly perfect, though Jin thinks he's lying. He focuses, feeling stubborn suddenly over getting the foreign sounds into proper order, when he notices Kamenashi's attention on him, skittering away when their eyes meet.

Oh, okay. Not just Ootomo and report cards then. Good to know.

He makes his next sip longer, keeps his eyes low. He's not against getting a move on. Maybe Kamenashi does like Jin's mouth. He's gone on about it enough.

"Buruichilajiku," he says. Kamenashi smiles encouragingly, and the look is only a little longer.

Jin thinks the next move out to the end. Kamenashi can take it any way he wants. "Do you have an early start tomorrow?" he asks. "It must be convenient to be in the city already."

"Not too early, no." There's a brief, tense smile. Jin puts one on, too; holds Kamenashi's eyes, holds still.

"I…" Kamenashi blinks down at the space between them. Then he puts both his feet on the ground, puts his glass down. Straightens. Jin stays just like he is, for Kamenashi to come to his decisions, and then Kamenashi says, "There's been a lot of rescheduling, so I'm quite lucky tomorrow."

It takes Jin a moment to catch up. "That must be very stressful."

Kamenashi's back still isn't touching the leather, but the stiffness has given way to a fidgety roll of his shoulders. "I mean, that's just how it goes on a film set. There's lots of people… lots of things, plans get changed a lot."

Jin nods just enough.

Probably doesn't take this long to get the point with Tatsuya. Never took this long with Jin, either. Never took any time.

"It's not always this relaxed when I stay in town, I have to drive out early…" Kamenashi shrugs.

Yeah, imagine having to fuck on a schedule. He hopes this isn't going somewhere weird and long-winded. He considers asking about cars.

Kamenashi puts his drink down when he notices he's sloshing it around. "I'm glad we're having this… this sort of appointment. I'm glad that worked out."

"I'm glad too," Jin says, perfectly neutral. Better not go there, not even in his head. They were almost on their way to the bed and he doesn't want to stage a seduction if Kamenashi goes off track congratulating himself, waiting for a pat on the back that he didn't grab Jin and shove him around for looking at him the wrong way.

Kamenashi doesn't even look at him. "Yeah," he says. "This was better."

No kidding.

This time Jin is silent.

"I… Before we go any further, I would…" The fidgeting stops. "I'm aware I still owe you an apology."

Oh. Jin does nothing. Doesn't even try to swallow away the dryness in his mouth.

So… pretending nothing ever happened didn't work out? Or were the last ninety minutes warm–up? Foreplay to saying sorry?

Kamenashi's gone rigid, but he's holding Jin's eyes, not backing out.

"I am sorry for deciding the double comfort over your head. I could tell you were not pleased, and it was wrong of me to push you into an awkward situation with a colleague. I am sorry I didn't abandon the idea before the atmosphere got so uncomfortable."

Kamenashi's prepared this.

And Jin… Jin hasn't, not really, or it's the remarkable time spent talking not fucking that makes him feel so off his guard. He doesn't want to think about any of it, not now; Yuu–chan and that horrible balancing act and expecting the worst all the time and being so grateful to Kamenashi he even wanted to— to be good, so…

He shuts it all down best as he can. Not a problem anymore; not going to happen again, Kamenashi's not going to…

He's not trying to. He's sitting there, apologizing.

"It's not my usual style. To insist." Kamenashi's swallowing. "I didn't handle myself very well. I'm sorry."

And Jin is staring, and silent, and there's not even a lame phrase he can think of that doesn't feel bizarre.

What do you do with that. What do you do with Kamenashi's fleeting glances, and the wait.

He's not feeling grateful this time; good. Doesn't need to be, either, not now when he no longer depends on Kamenashi's finer feelings.

So complaining to Ootomo and using people's friends to get at them is not his usual style. That's something. Useful information, for one. It'll help Jin do his job.

"I appreciate it," he says in the end. It's neutral, and bland, and not as wrong as saying it wasn't so bad, or that he's already forgotten. It was and he hasn't.

But his answer seems to be enough, seems to do something right, because Kamenashi's nodding in a stutter, squaring his shoulders. For more.

"I also—" A scratchy cough. "I also think that we really didn't get off on the right foot, and I think I had some part in that. If I'd handled our initial disagreements better, we'd never have had so many problems."

Problems. That Jin existed? Because he still doesn't get it, he doesn't understand why there was a wrong foot to begin with and why it had to prompt grabbing and stalking maneuvers, and Jin can hear just fine what Kamenashi's leaving out, how he's painting things here.

Still. It's something. Maybe being famous means you get to twist your story like that. It's better than nothing; better than Jin not even rating a nod after Yuu–chan and Ootomo got the Kamenashi reformation live and in colour.

He nods slowly, hopes it looks understanding enough.

Normal sex, some food, and awkward conversation. Both of them pretending Kamenashi was never really an asshole. He can deal with that. It's just a job. At least Kamenashi's a little embarrassed by it all.

"And I feel I should explain myself."

What, more?

Kamenashi is wiping his palms on his trousers, then stops when he sees Jin has noticed.

Jin holds his breath. Kamenashi takes one, a deep one. "Like I said… a lot of that was unusual for me. I didn't quite understand it myself. That I was so impatient when things… well."

Things. Jin wonders if he should ask about that. Find out what _things_ Kamenashi saw that meant Jin deserved all that.

But they're not going there today. They're just talking about Kamenashi's regrettable lack of patience with the difficult escort that did _things_ to him.

Kamenashi's waiting now, for a prompt or some indication of interest. Jin guesses he can go along. "And now you've figured it out?"

Kamenashi has gone still and is… looking at him, straight at him. "Yes," he says, and it sounds very controlled. "Yes, I have." His eyes slide off Jin to the whisky he's still holding, in which the ice has almost melted. "But it took me until… well. Until last time, after… once we were alone. That's when I figured it out."

That thing. The weird stare and the sudden difference, and whatever that was with the bathroom. So that wasn't a change of heart, that was—

"It sounds a little strange, perhaps," Kamenashi says next and there's a flush darkening his face. "Like I should have noticed much sooner. I found it very confusing."

Confusing.

And Jin's sitting here again not daring to move, but he wants to hear this out to its bizarre end. He nods once, slowly. Kamenashi seems to need it.

"You remind me of someone," he says on a short, tight breath. "Just the way… sometimes…" That could maybe be a smile, if it didn't look painful. "I hadn't thought about him in so long. I just didn't know."

Jin's mind starts racing. The funny looks, yes, but how do you not know, and why does it mean ties and vicious games and that never-ending contempt, and whom would Kamenashi—

But he doesn't blurt all that out; keeps it locked in tight. All this practice he has, handling Kamenashi. "Someone not good, I take it?"

"No," Kamenashi says, exhaling, and he briefly closes his eyes. "The guy who ruined my life."

Jin laughs.

He can't help it. Not when he's sitting here in Kamenashi's converted warehouse with the wine and the chocolates and Kamenashi shelling out a month's worth of money just to fuck.

"I— what I meant was…" Kamenashi is blinking at him like he's confused again. Like maybe he doesn't get why Jin might not see how ruined he is. Like maybe he thinks Jin could be more _sympathetic_.

Like it's an excuse, for _anything_. "What did he do to you?" Jin asks. "Spill the good wine all over your Armani?"

Kamenashi shakes his head, slowly, like he's really not following. "No, he— it was, I meant— he was my boyfriend and…" Lost without his script, or, who knows, maybe he practiced that too, the way he's sorting through the pieces, the fractured glances that— go still, close down.

Kamenashi turns towards the table, painfully slowly, stares at the smooth polished surface. He's pale, and he's not blinking now.

Jin feels his stomach go tight, watching the blank profile. Everything is silent but the music, which is light and measured, precise like the set of Kamenashi's shoulders.

Laughing was probably stupid.

He's wondering if he should say something. If this will be the end of the evening, if Kamenashi will kick him out now, or if he'll want his usual and Jin will have to stop him because Jin's got a list.

"Anyway," Kamenashi says, his voice very even now. "I thought I should explain that." Then he rises.

Silent, slow steps on wood, then marble. Everything even; so even. Kamenashi pulling control back around him, tight and dark, or that's just the dimmed lights in the kitchen, the fucking shadows. Jin's not going to get hurt here; he knows that, he's settled that.

He puts the whisky out of his hands, too. No shoving, and no damn walls either. He knows that much. He makes himself move to the edge of the couch. It'll be a tough call if it's the floor.

Kamenashi has his hands on the edge of the sink, and then he very slowly fills a glass with water. The tap's almost a trickle.

The floor is complicated because it's not strange to kneel, because clients like the visual and it's not all about disdain. The floor was unclear on his list, is unclear in his head now, with Kamenashi coiled, shut down like this. He can't tell now.

Kamenashi turns off the water.

Violins. All classy and gentle, and somehow that brings it back in hot waves. Kamenashi and his poor ruined life, here in this… this _place_ , and Kamenashi's fans wherever, even at the goddamn club. And Jin has a fucking list because of Kamenashi, he's rating blow jobs now according to how much hatred comes with them, and fuck Kamenashi and his fucked-up reasons.

Kamenashi takes a sip from his glass, still turned away from Jin. No offer of anything for Jin this time. Just more silence, and some plucking of strings in a minor key. No need to keep watching Kamenashi, no need to feel threatened by the deep thoughts he's thinking and the quiet breaths that are his only movement. He still draws the eye, over there in the shadow, even if he seems to have decided that Jin is best ignored, and that left–over cat food is much more interesting.

Kamenashi picks up the bowl and rattles the pellets gently. Ponders them deeply. Then he puts the bowl away in the refrigerator. His face is sharp in profile as he ponders again, then takes another sip of water. He puts down the glass.

"Well," he says, to the window. And then he finally turns. Nothing to be read in his face, no show for anybody here. "I suggest we move on to what you came here for. I wouldn't like to deprive you of your income."

More quiet as he stops for another switch of some kind, and the blinds come fully down all around with a muted hum. Then he takes a couple more steps towards Jin before he stops. Jin's move next.

Right, like that now. Kamenashi the model client, being polite and considerate and making sure Jin knows his place. Jin's probably supposed to thank him for it. But he doesn't care anymore.

He'll handle the floor. Or whatever else Kamenashi can fit into his version of well-behaved. And the sooner he finds out, the sooner he'll get home.

"Certainly," he says, looking straight at Kamenashi as he rises. "Should I get on my knees right here, or should I undress for it first?"

Kamenashi is out of the shadow, and Jin can actually see his reaction, or what there is of it; a slow, tight swallow, and the mask getting frailer. "I said we're doing it differently," Kamenashi says, without tone or breath.

Different. Okay.

"Of course," Jin says, when he doesn't even know what different means. He can't see himself getting the Kimura–senpai treatment. He very much doubts Kimura–senpai gets stared at like an unwelcome intruder, a task to be dealt with.

Go figure.

Kamenashi nods in stiff confirmation.

Dealt with politely, it seems.

And it still looks stiff and weird the way Kamenashi walks back to the coffee table, comes to a charged halt at the far end, not even close to Jin. He bends and reaches underneath, producing a small remote from somewhere; okay, music, whatever—

The soft light that's been filling the room from a couple of hidden corners disappears, and the bed corner is lit now, warm and inviting.

Smooth tech for a ruined guy.

Kamenashi puts the remote down, his hands very still at his sides when he straightens. "Please," he says, with a tiny nod.

Bed, no problem. Brief stop by his bag for the practicalities, and Kamenashi is waiting awkwardly at the foot of the bed when Jin has put the sachets on the nightstand next to the light and looks up for further instructions.

Kamenashi drops his gaze, his hands moving to the first button on his shirt.

Looks promising. Any sort of fucking on the bed will be fine by Jin, and there's not going to be little extras with belts and the like.

Though he wonders if he should step closer, or if he should strip where he is. If he should ask about where he's supposed to be now.

Or if he should give normal a shot and not wait for every move of his to be cleared by the committee of crazy and the review commission of volatile client.

Normal guys you just offer, you let some things happen without a triple check. But for that he might have to be within happening distance. So he gives himself a push and rounds the corner of the bed, unhurried, with warning. Kamenashi looks up from button number three, slowing into a wait.

"Would you like my help with that?"

That stillness again, and it's catching; Jin's not moving anymore, either, not at all. Committee of crazy in session. Kamenashi is actually thinking about this.

Then there's a tight smile. "Thank you," Kamenashi says. "That's not necessary."

Necessary. Right. Because that's what fucking is all about.

"But please," Kamenashi adds with a small gesture, "do feel free…"

Jin obediently starts undoing his own buttons. Necessary, he guesses. He isn't rushing, but still he's sliding his shirt out of his waistband before Kamenashi has undone the last button, and he doesn't wait for further instructions before pulling off his socks, then undoing his belt and zip and stepping out of trousers and underpants, too.

Kamenashi sticks to his fastidious pace as he proceeds to undo his black slacks. He folds them twice, makes a neat pile on a chair, adds his socks to it, and only then it's underpants. Nothing happening there yet, Jin notes, but that's fair enough; probably preoccupied with his ruination and the strain of being normal.

Well, for some measure of normal.

When they're standing by the bed facing each other naked, Jin gets a dangerous urge to laugh again. But this time he's on top of it, keeps it professional.

"I could…" He motions at the bed.

"Yes," Kamenashi says, as though the thought hadn't occurred to him. "Yes, that's… please do."

Jin sits on the edge of the bed but doesn't let things get awkward for himself, just scoots towards the middle, with room to lie down or turn over or whatever it is Kamenashi wants now, and just for a moment he remembers stretching out, seeing nothing but the ceiling, with Kamenashi out of sight and watching…

No. God no, not going there.

Kamenashi's watching him now, and Jin is breathing and it's all cool, because that's not going to happen, and even the way Kamenashi's gaze touches Jin's body looks different. Probably because it's polite. Not that polite seems to be working all that well for Kamenashi.

But he's making an effort at last, approaching the bed and looking vaguely pleased to find a naked guy in it. He sits on the edge, his feet almost modest on the ground. He's stiff as a board.

Jin leans back a little on his arms, stretches to offer a better view. He feels Kamenashi's eyes skim him, interest or inventory, Jin doesn't care, doesn't have to.

"What do you…" Kamenashi clears his throat again, before he glances up at Jin with a weird frown. "Is there any particular way you like to start?"

Fuck him. Is he deluded? Like Jin's going to tell him any of that, even the stuff he likes from clients, normal clients who aren't assholes. Like it's not enough that he knows what Jin hates.

But Jin keeps calm. "We can start with whatever you prefer." It's a reply he's used before, with better people than Kamenashi.

First proper eye contact in a while, and Kamenashi's switching on the sincerity. "I just mean…"

That he's such a nice guy. That Jin's just going to go from taking his abuse to opening up about what makes him feel good, because Kamenashi's so special.

"I'm here for what _you_ like," Jin says, and makes sure he smiles a bit because that's about all the charm he can find. It hits home anyway. Good. Good to be clear what they are to each other, for each of them to know his place.

Kamenashi lowers his head in a nod, and his eyes to Jin's body, the bed, his own hands. "Of course," he says. "Of course."

Yeah, better with some facts established. Even if it earns him more games about how much Jin likes things, if Kamenashi figures stuff out on his own again in that creepy way he has. Jin's not going to care this time.

"All right then." Kamenashi shifts closer. "I usually…"

Back to the usual. Well, as long as he's got a plan, things might move at last.

Kamenashi does, finally getting his feet off the ground, and Jin lowers himself a little further when Kamenashi's with him.

That part goes easy, genuinely smooth, settling together and arranging their legs so it's comfortable. Jin's been too close with too many to mind Kamenashi's skin on his, like this, almost normal.

Kamenashi holds his weight on his arms still, looking down.

Eyes clouded with a small frown, all focus, and it's not scary at all, it's just distant and different.

He takes a breath as if to speak, only nothing happens. His hips shift, and Jin responds a fraction, enough to say he's game. He's here for that, too, and he can try to make it smooth.

Kamenashi tries a smile, shifts his weight again so he can put a hand on Jin, a hesitant palm skating up to Jin's shoulder, all weird and vague, and then it stops.

When it stays stopped, Jin parts his lips, wets them lightly, like it might happen by accident, and if the client remembers there's kissing, or other fun times to be had, that could help them both. All Kamenashi does is blink.

Jin can feel the deep breath where they're touching. And Kamenashi's smile goes tight, like he's really trying, and his eyes are on his hand and there's another shuddering breath.

Maybe that's polite and different catching up with him; maybe, with the ruined life and all that, Jin's just not someone he can fuck the regular way.

And he tenses, because there's a sudden hardness around Kamenashi's eyes which seems to say that Kamenashi has just figured that out, too. And now Jin's going to find out what he plans to do about it.

He's ready when Kamenashi shifts his balance, ready to move or protest if the slightest—

"I hope you don't mind," Kamenashi says, and it's the firmest Jin has heard him in a while. "I prefer to have the light off."

He doesn't wait for an answer. Just reaches out, no fancy tech now, and then it's dark.

Jin braces himself. Any wrong moves, he'll walk. Right now. He's got his elbows pressing into the mattress ready to push himself up.

But there's nothing; nothing at all.

Kamenashi's a dark shape on grey, almost motionless. Jin can hear the deep breaths he takes, and his weight is warmer now, or clearer, Jin's aware of the tension in that body, tiny shifts in the muscles…

Different. Really different; Jin hasn't had a client before who doesn't want to watch him as he gets fucked.

And Kamenashi's hand is back, and this time it's a little surer, and stays.

Kamenashi's found his script again.

The touches travel. Jin doesn't shiver from them and he doesn't have to track, they're slow and circle along some uniform course, and eventually he stops thinking about Kamenashi's eyes, which are open and catching what little light there is, and always following what he's doing, never who he's with.

Jin moves a bit, arching into a touch when it seems right, normal, and nothing comes back. He trails his fingers along Kamenashi's hips, thinking he should contribute something, unsure if it's welcome. It seems to be no problem, so he splays his hands out flat on smooth skin, tries to gauge the sort of pressure Kamenashi might like. "I could—"

He doesn't get further.

"This can work," Kamenashi says, and it's dark and urgent and next thing there's a hot open mouth on his neck, and Jin sucks in a breath and falls silent. Tries to stay responsive through the tension in his body.

On they go.

More touching, weird and mechanical; nuzzling where Kamenashi can reach, not bad but not natural either, superficial somehow. Jin moves when he can, when it seems okay, while Kamenashi works his way along the foreplay line. Maybe that's necessary too. At least at some point there's an erection rubbing softly against Jin's leg, Kamenashi nudging him to help it along, and that makes it less weird, a little more like Kamenashi might be enjoying himself.

He has to think when Kamenashi wraps a hand around him; has to concentrate. He knows how to do this and it should be easier in the dark, but the touch is too soft, too something, not responsive enough, and it will take a while for Kamenashi to get the hard cock he wants.

"Do you want me to do it?" he says quietly, because Kamenashi was fine letting—

"Shut up." Kamenashi's voice is weird; tight.

What the fuck?

Kamenashi shakes his hands off, too, presses the one he can reach briefly into the mattress even though Jin wasn't doing anything, wasn't touching himself.

Jin breathes deep, past his surprise and the frozen stare Kamenashi is giving him. He can take this guy if he has to, now he's allowed to; he's taller, stronger…

"I see," he says. "We're doing it differently."

"We are." Kamenashi sounds stressed, and what the fuck, who's _making_ him do this? "I told you. Only you're not helping."

"I just offered to help."

The pause is long enough for Jin to note that Kamenashi is bracing himself up high, isn't touching Jin except where their legs are entangled. "You can help." And another moment, but then Kamenashi finds his firmness somewhere in this bizarre game in the dark. "You'll help if you don't distract me and let me do this the way it works."

Jin bites back a reply. Eventually Kamenashi settles again, and his eyes are wide and black even when they're avoiding Jin.

The way it works. More of the touching. More of Kamenashi's mouth. It's all so slow and random that Jin gets time to think that Kamenashi's never done that, not since that first time… no, when he shoved Jin into a wall and made him come, so fast and rough, that time, too…

He doesn't understand why Kamenashi thinks this is the way it works, when all it seems is joyless and tense.

Kamenashi's hand is on his cock again, and stays there. That feels fine, like they might get places, and sometimes he hits that little twist that really works. Jin's hard by now. Maybe that helps Kamenashi, too.

He doesn't understand why they don't just move on to fucking, either.

Or why Kamenashi then starts over, the touching and mapping, all over, more frantic with every inch of skin that doesn't give him what he's looking for, or waiting for, or hoping to do when he never takes Jin up on a signal, ignores every breath and shiver.

"What are you doing," Jin asks when Kamenashi settles in on a spot right by Jin's collarbone, and Jin can do without that weird focus shifting a centimetre in the wrong direction.

"I'm getting— what?" Jin can see that frown even in the dark. "What is your problem?"

Somehow he doubts Kamenashi wants a real answer to that. Not that Jin has a clue. He breathes out, slides a leg up a bit, hoping Kamenashi gets the idea via body language. Progress welcome here.

Then the touch lifts off completely. "Or am I hurting you?" Kamenashi says.

Hurt him? With what?

"No," Jin says. "You aren't."

He can hear Kamenashi's breathing again, shallow now and sped up. He thinks it's not from his hard–on, or anything else Jin can help him with.

Then it goes on, and it's not going well, for either of them. Not the more frantic touches or the lack of direction. Not when Kamenashi slips his fingers between Jin's legs and Jin is all accommodating, when he wonders if there'll be a repeat show of _that_ stuff because Kamenashi remembers how it turned him on to mess with Jin.

There isn't, and Kamenashi doesn't – or maybe he does, maybe it just doesn't fit with whatever this is. It's all so weird. Different, and kind of pathetic.

And suddenly it stops, and Kamenashi is up on his elbow, staring down at Jin, his chest stretching unevenly over a desperate breath. "This isn't _working_ ," he says, like it's all Jin's fault.

Jin's had enough. He could have done something with this; he can _do_ normal sex, he touches guys who are less handsome than Kamenashi all the time and if Kamenashi can't sort out his needs enough to let him participate, that's not his problem. Kamenashi's hard, for fuck's sake. "So you can't let me help out here?" he says. "Or is this not scared enough for you, do you need me to beg?"

It's so fast he can't dodge it. For a moment it looks like a slap, but then Kamenashi's hand is clamped over his mouth and Kamenashi's right in his face and pressing down and Jin freezes between the instinct to throw him the fuck off and the crazy helplessness in Kamenashi's eyes.

"Shut up," he says, scratchy and rough over the rushing in Jin's ears. "I don't need to hear this from you, I don't need to hear this from some _whore_." So close that his breath is hot and his palm presses harder, Kamenashi's lost his balance, lost more than his balance. "I don't need you _looking_ at me."

A moment passes, then Kamenashi snatches his hand away. Jin can breathe. His skin's prickling and his heart is beating way too fast and high but…

…that's just his body coming down, catching up, to what he somehow already knows.

There's no threat here.

Kamenashi pulls back, everything about him sharp and lost. "Right," he says, a brittle snap. "We… let's just do this then."

Jin watches him keep his distances as he deals with preparation, caged moves that look no less heavy in the dark. He doesn't say anything anymore.

*~*~*

"And? How is it?"

"Over." Jin slows, turns a little to look back at the meticulously groomed hedges shielding Kamenashi's well–protected converted warehouse. The gate that's firmly closed behind him.

No need for code now. "It was fine," he says. "I got out two minutes ago." Five minutes after they were done fucking. Maybe six after the fucking started for real. Kamenashi is young. It's over fast when he wants it to be.

He starts walking again.

"Anything unusual?" Ootomo's voice prompts.

Jin doesn't laugh. "Just fucking." Fucking without looking, without sounds, fucking without anything, no games and no connection. Easy rhythm, functional pace and an empty kind of concentration. "He managed."

And then he got up and disappeared in the bathroom with his clothes. Maybe ten minutes ago now.

"He wasn't hostile?"

"Not by his standards." Now Jin does laugh, a little. Awkward, confused, desperate… fucking annoying, even, trying to have sex he doesn't seem to want, and Jin's not going to wonder what that boyfriend did to him because he doesn't care. What did Kamenashi even expect?

"Jin…"

It's weird, weird but good, to know that Ootomo won't take evasion for an answer. Even when Jin didn't mean it that way because he's got nothing to be evasive about.

"No, he wasn't." Except that Jin's still a whore, but he knew that. Isn't really surprised that the one honest moment was about _that_. His lips are salty when he tastes them. He could have done with a shower. "It was fine."

Kamenashi cracking under the stress of trying for 'normal'. Kamenashi trying not to touch Jin while he gets a condom on himself and lubes up. Kamenashi silent while he fucks Jin, with his eyes somewhere on nothing.

And it wasn't scary. Jin knows Kamenashi scary, and that wasn't that.

"Did he say anything about the other time?"

"Yeah. He apologized." For that, anyway. Jin can feel out the gaps and careful omissions later, all the things he remembers from the other times which Kamenashi still seems to consider fine and gentlemanly behaviour.

Or not, because he doesn't care about that, either. They're done. He can see the subway from here.

Ootomo hmms something. "You going home now?" Jin appreciates his concern, but do they have to be _social_ now or…

No. Not the time to resent Ootomo. It was fine, for a date with Kamenashi. And Ootomo had his back, Ootomo helped. He'll think about the novelty of both these feelings later. "Yeah," he says. "I'll see you tomorrow."

~

 _Chapter 22 to follow 04/08/2011_

 


	22. Chapter 22

### Saturday 18 October, 16:00

He could hide on this set. So many corners and narrow corridors, and honest-to-god hospital staff who honestly don't give a damn, some tiny doctors' changing room where the main cast is camping out, and he could disappear between the chaos and the angles, only he's Kamenashi Kazuya and even the kid distributing the coffee knows his face.

He says his thanks and takes the lidded cup without asking about sugar. The benches are hard but he thinks that's better for keeping him alert and present. He hasn't slept much. He's not sure he's making sense, in his head or to his colleagues. Good thing he has lines.

Fukushima is eating Chinese take-out, one of the stylist's black robes over his headmaster suit. Matsura is picking at a salad of some kind and Kame can smell the mayonnaise from where he's sitting, and the black bean sauce mingling with the smell of salves and antiseptic floor cleaner. It makes his stomach heave.

He's fine here. He's good here. Nobody here knows anything about him, and when they're looking at him it's because of work, because they want to get attention or an autograph or chemistry with an actress he can't stand out of him, and all that is fine. He arrived to work early.

"It's a nice day off for all the boys, isn't it, Kamenashi-san?" Matsura asks, with her bright-eyed charm and her hungry eyes. She makes it easy to stay on guard.

He answers her in some friendly informative way about boys and schools and schedules, and she giggles in agreement. Hours of this before he can get home. And at home it'll be quiet, and he doesn't know what to do with quiet either; the quiet was terrible last night.

It was supposed to be better now. Sorted, and over, and not like some nauseating shadow that crawls up from behind whenever he forgets and lets go of the firm grip on his mind.

What was he thinking.

He slept to tense exhausting dreams full of worry and self-doubt and betrayal, and then he lay awake to an endless replay, his own words, over and over, and he can't stop feeling naked no matter how much he keeps busy and focussed and productive.

They get their call.

He moves and he works and he says his lines; he can hide in that wide-eyed earnest teacher for a while, until the third time Iijima calls a retake and Kame feels like everyone is staring at him, everyone can see right through him, and some guy somewhere now knows about Souji and laughed in his face.

He's never told anyone and now he's told some whore who thinks it's funny, who can now entertain half a club with stories of Kamenashi Kazuya not keeping it together, and what was he thinking. How could he be so stupid.

He never saw it coming with Souji either, despite everything, despite how hard the break-up was.

"Should I take your hand when we try again?"

Matsura. This time it takes him a moment to place her. He's still being stupid. Maybe Souji was right about that.

She holds up a slender hand and… twirls? Half a twirl, something like that, something he's supposed to like. "It is quite an intense scene."

The sex was so strange. And he lost it; totally lost it, and the guy can add that to the story too, just because he wouldn't shut up, wouldn't help, wouldn't stop feeling wrong.

"Don't you think?"

He wants to be done with this film. Wants it with all the force of his embarrassment, over last night and his never-ending stupidity, and then he feels even more ashamed and terribly lonely, because if he can't even do this anymore, what was it all for?

They try the scene with subtle hand-holding when Matsura slumps against him. It doesn't go great, because Kame finds her too intense and he thinks it's bad for the film, and it's harder not to think of wrong touches and laughter with someone in his space like that, and in the end Iijima lets it go.

 

### Saturday 18 October, 19:30

Jin leaves Yamatani behind in their usual room with a final little bow, saying, "And careful about those little old ladies." Yamatani, who has a charity do on Sunday and is dreading the determined obaa-sans, makes a pained face, but there's a smile behind it.

Jin's already dressed and styled, because Yamatani always lets him do that on the clock. He can have a proper break now.

Not that he couldn't just go home, after a comfort, and with the money he's made this week. But it's barely after nine, and Ootomo likes them to stay at least till the last train on Saturdays. Jin could fit in a relaxation and still make his connections.

He heads to the break room. Nobody in there but Tatsuya, watching TV in his underwear while blow-drying his hair. They give each other a nod, and Jin gets his tea out of the fridge and puts Linkin Park on his mp3 player until the noise stops and Tatsuya starts to get dressed. Sober style, muted tie…

"Going undercover?" Jin says, nodding at the outfit.

"Kusanagi's villa warming," Tatsuya says. "I'm a new junior partner in the company. Had to research European tariffs in case somebody asks me. Fascinating stuff." His face says how he means it.

Jin grimaces. "Things we do for a rest."

Rest. Kamenashi, and the things Jin will do, won't do. Ootomo debriefed him in person when he arrived today, not that there was much to say. _Fed me chicken, apologized, fucked without lights or enthusiasm. Mostly harmless._ Jin's not sure why he didn't mention the flashback to crazyville, the name-calling. Maybe because it paled in comparison to what he's had before. Maybe because he lay in bed last night thinking about boyfriends, about Naoki, and that maybe he really shouldn't have laughed. Who knows what went on there.

Maybe Tatsuya?

"Uh," he says before he even thinks about it properly. "I kind of have a question. About Kamenashi. San," he adds quickly because Tatsuya might like that.

Tatsuya stops styling his hair, impassive eyes meeting Jin's in the mirror. "Yes?"

Of course. Ootomo talked to him after…

Jin swallows quickly. "What's that about him and his former boyfriend?"

It's clearly not what Tatsuya expected, and he frowns, in a soft way that won't cause wrinkles and looks pretty if you like his type. "Boyfriend?"

"Yeah, the one wh—" Jin stops, and he's not sure why. Maybe he just doesn't want to quote Kamenashi on ruined lives. "The one he had. Once."

Tatsuya shakes his head. "He never mentioned anyone."

"Oh," Jin says, and it's pretty much exactly what he thinks because… because he thought the guys Kamenashi likes would have heard about this anyway, and only Jin had to get it as part of a self-justification gig.

"What about him?" Tatsuya says.

"Uh, nothing," Jin says. "I was just curious." And now he is.

But Tatsuya just nods and starts doing his hair again. "I'm glad you two are getting on better."

"Yeah," Jin mumbles, and busies himself with his tea.

As soon as Tatsuya has left, he boots up the hand-me-down computer from admin that gives them basic access to taxi numbers, restaurant guides and other information for the enterprising escort. Spends half a century trying to remember the guy's first name, then types 'Kamenashi Kazuya boyfriend' into Yahoo. He doesn't expect much, Kamenashi is among the more paranoid ones, but sometimes gossip sites speculate and sometimes they're right.

Tens of thousands of returns, but there's nothing on the first page or the second, just a bunch of almost random links, and Dramawiki entries on great lovers the guy has played. He clicks through to the next page, and the next, hits pay dirt on page four. 'Where's our Romance Hero Now?' it says, and though the link is dead, there is more: 'Dumped for his Career.' – 'Boyfriend Spills Dark Secret.' and 'NO Chance with Kame for YOU.' And so on.

Jin's about to click on the dark secret when the door opens. It's Koichi, giving him a reserved nod, and Jin doesn't know why he shuts the browser down so quickly or why he doesn't ask Koichi anything, because Koichi is a fan and might actually know about this, it's all out there in public, anyone can find it no matter how quiet Kamenashi keeps it.

Jin shouldn't have laughed.

 

### Sunday 19 October, 07:00

He still feels the sand, tickling under his feet where the water steals it away, and the beating sun and the waves rippling around his ankles, when he knows that he is waking up, that he isn't really here, that Souji won't come and run wet hands up his back because he's awake and it's morning and this is his house and soon it will fade, like any other dream.

There is his wife sleeping curled up in their blankets, her hair over her face puffing up with each peaceful breath, and he doesn't know why his skin remembers, stiff new hotel sheets and the sand they dragged in from the beach, the heat of Souji's sunburn under his familiar sleepy scent.

He wants to breathe, breathe it all away because it isn't worth holding on to, but there's a weight on his throat now, so heavy, and an old happiness nestling warm in his stomach, and Kame wants to cry.

It's seven in the morning and he feels beaten and shattered, like he's been stumbling around without sleep for weeks.

He pushes the blanket off with tired arms, for some cool, for more air, and he doesn't cry. His sheets are a temperate smooth satin and the air smells of nothing, just clean and normal, and any second now he'll be fine. At least Midori hasn't woken up.

Why now? Why that holiday, the happiest they ever were before it just got hard and painful?

He sits up and puts his feet on the ground, glad for the dim light, a grey haze he can pull over the pictures.

They made love in their hotel room in Thailand, an afternoon between beach and lazy snacks and wrestling in the water, and he doesn't remember much about sex or coming or what they did but he remembers everything else. Everything else. The way Souji kissed him and the salt in their hair and the cheap too-thick pillows and Souji's smile, Kame writing guess words on his chest as they lay together. He remembers desire.

Clear as if he could reach for it, as if it had happened yesterday.

He doesn't know why it had to be so real, why it couldn't be a nightmare. He wishes it had been a nightmare.

Finally he gets up, and manages to get into the kitchen without bumping into anything and without alerting his wife. Coffee first. He has work, and he's not twenty-two anymore, and he's not in love. And good for him, because look how it all turned out.

The strong scent helps clear his head and focus him on the present. By the time the percolator's done, he's almost forgotten the memory of sea and sun screen.

When he takes a shower he keeps it brief and doesn't think of anything, and when Midori stumbles out of the bedroom and directs her early morning despair at the coffee pot he's got it together, he's okay.

"Did you sleep okay?" She blinks at him, leaning against the counter with her hands around her mug.

"Yes, fine," he says, leaving his own half-filled. He'll be at work soon, and then he won't think of Souji, and he'll stop feeling like every breath is falling into a void. "I'll see you tonight."

 

### Monday 20 October, 21:00

"Do you think the shower in this room has better water pressure than the one in room twelve?"

Yokoyama's hair is soaking wet, dripping down along his neck and into the bathrobe. He gives the bathroom a final fascinated look before he closes the door.

Jin pushes himself up from his elbows and sits, his feet dangling over the edge of the bed. He tries to remember if he's ever noticed different water pressure anywhere on the floor. "I don't think so," he hazards.

"It's on the same floor as this one, isn't it? They all are?" The lights are still low from sex, and Yokoyama looks glowy and happy from orgasm and equipment awe.

"Yes, all second floor."

"Probably easier on the pipes," Yokoyama muses.

They have showers on the first floor, too. But Jin has a feeling if he mentions that, they'll end up in an extended discussion of plumbing logistics where neither of them will know what he's talking about.

He's in a bathrobe as well, his hair damp and probably turning messy. No telling yet where the rest of Yokoyama's three hours is going, but he's not worried about finding out.

Yokoyama is zeroing in on the mini bar. "I was in a terrible business hotel up in Aomori this weekend, and the water pressure was so disappointing. They had a good gym, though." He picks a beer and then he hunts around for the bottle opener, which Jin knows to be lying next to the bottles inside the fridge.

It's been a nice date. Between all his adventurousness, Yokoyama seems to like going back to Jin even if Jin is nobody's first choice for experimental sex. Yokoyama seems cool with that, too.

On their first night he peered at the condoms, speculating if the different shades of subdued grey meant different shapes or colours inside. Jin had never given it any thought, and eventually they tore open a very dark and a very light one and discovered there was no difference at all.

"You don't have a gym," Yokoyama observes. Jin assumes he means for the guests.

"You're not getting enough exercise here?" he asks, with far less suggestion than the more suave escort could probably put into it, but they both blush a little anyway.

The bottle is still not open, and Jin pushes himself off the bed to get the opener out of the fridge. Yokoyama is checking him out with failed subtlety.

"Here you go," Jin says, holding Yokoyama's eyes over the neck of the bottle.

"Thanks. Um. Do you want something, too?"

Jin goes for a beer as well, and then they end up back on the bed, Yokoyama sprawling against the headboard, Jin further down and facing him so the guy gets a better look.

"Though I should really exercise more," Yokoyama says after tearing his eyes away from how the bathrobe falls over Jin's legs. He pats his belly with a mournful sigh. "I don't even eat that much. I was on a diet just last week." He looks even more like an overgrown schoolboy when he pouts.

"Diets are hard," Jin says seriously, and finds agreement.

"You look great, though," Yokoyama says. "Um." He hesitates, then nods very earnestly. "Really. I think you look great."

Jin smiles. "Thank you," he says.

Yokoyama proceeds to warn him of the horrible shock his mid-twenties might be, "when those dumplings start sticking," and to engage in gentle ogling when Jin scoots a little closer, somewhere in the middle of Yokoyama's experiences with the banana diet.

None of these are deep secrets, but the total contrast still reminds Jin that Kamenashi never revealed as much as his favourite colour before.

"And, you know, the other day, I was with a colleague of yours," Yokoyama says when Jin has a sip of beer. Jin wonders if he knows he's staring at Jin's mouth. "And I had a drink. You know, because."

He raises his bottle as if that'll help him, and just for a moment it makes Jin think of Kamenashi again and that awkward conversation, every word a chore.

"Oh, he didn't know about the water pressure, either," Yokoyama adds in a confidential tone. "And I was wondering why he wasn't thirsty and then it turns out you guys don't go to the minibar!"

It's easier to put Kamenashi away now, and Jin's no longer getting tripped up by his own thoughts. He smiles. "We wouldn't like to impose on your generosity without knowing your plans for the evening."

Yokoyama nods once, and rather too slowly.

"You'll get billed for the drinks, so I wouldn't just go and take something without you offering," Jin clarifies. Yokoyama's already asked him things like how much conversation is required before he's allowed to touch him and the etiquette of making escorts come or not, so if there's a guy who doesn't need formal whorespeak…

"Oh! That's right, I will! Oh. You think he was offended? That would be bad."

"I'm sure it was fine," he reassures Yokoyama, who looks thoroughly relieved.

"I don't mind at all about the drinks, by the way. If you just go and take something. So, you know, in the future, if I forget – I forget things all the time. So don't let me offend you. I mean I wouldn't come here if I couldn't afford it, I just go to regular bars when the market's sluggish, or I stay at home."

Jin asks about his investments then, not that he expects to understand the finer points, and five minutes later he is the usual mix of slightly more educated and a lot more confused, and also glad that his money isn't in some weird bouncing shares but in solid figures in a savings account.

They have at least an hour left, and Yokoyama hasn't made a move, though there's a very attentive stillness where Jin has started tracing patterns on the back of Yokoyama's knee with his fingers.

Jin has to shift a little more to reach the edge of Yokoyama's bathrobe. He slides his fingers along the knot.

"May I?"

Yokoyama blinks. Definitely attention under Jin's hand. "What, twice? We can go again? Is that all right?"

The knot comes loose easily, and Jin gets on top of Yokoyama so he can reach him with his mouth.

"Feels all right to me," he says, with a teasing first stroke.

"Oh," Yokoyama says, "okay then," and shuts up with an excited breath.

 

### Tuesday 21 October, 19:00

Kame lets himself into the apartment balancing the luxury sushi platter and bottle of vintage Montrachet he bought after shooting finished because he thought he'd cheer himself up. It smells of the cleaner's lemon disinfectant and he's glad all traces of his last night there are gone.

No, not thinking about that.

He puts the wine into the freezer to chill and the sushi into the fridge, except for the pieces meant for Natsuko, who prefers room temperature. Then he heads for the shower.

He feels better when he's washed the day off himself and wears nothing but boxers and a loose t-shirt. He'd feel even better if he didn't have to stay at the apartment, where nothing can distract him.

Company would be nice; familiar, understanding company, relaxing company. He thinks of Tatsuya, but then he thinks of things going wrong even in the dark, right over there in that bed. Thinks how long it's been since he was with someone and it went well. How little sleep he's had, how exposed he feels with the dreams and the whispers in his mind, and how it's probably best not to go near anyone like this.

And work starts early tomorrow, the reason he has to be here in the first place. He should sleep. He needs sleep, and composure.

He starts at the noise of the timer he learned to set for wine when he froze a bottle of Chablis solid because he forgot it over learning his lines.

He opens the bottle and puts it on the table together with a large glass. Picks a bluesy CD full of heavy sax from the collection to fill the emptiness with sound.

When the CD tray slides out, it's got the classical mix from… he doesn't need this. He doesn't need to think about this. He pushes the tray shut and walks away.

He pours himself a glass of wine and drinks it, waits for the ache in his shoulders to ease.

If only he hadn't explained.

Souji no longer belongs in his life, and certainly not in his one safe space, the one Kame needs because of him. If he goes to the club now, he'll be wondering, all the time. Who's heard what, who's remembered, who's laughing at him behind his back.

He carries the refilled glass over to the couch, stretches out with the sushi beside him and tomorrow's scenes in his lap, and tries to concentrate.

But he can't shake the weight of another door closing, his world shrinking again. Where can he go when he's got so little control of himself that a whore's mockery can make him lose it?

If only he'd managed to keep it together. Smile, shrug it off, have sex as planned… and maybe he wouldn't have to stay alone tonight.

He's almost pathetically glad when Natsuko squeezes through the gap in the window with a proprietary squeak.

"Mwrrr," he says, and she gives him a look.

Half the neighbourhood must feed her, and for her to look like this they must be feeding her cream.

But she likes Kame's fish. The salmon is tender enough to separate easily, and he's snipped the octopus into bits with scissors. After she's snapped at him and he's managed to pull his hand back in time, he stands and pets her while she eats, and she tries to purr between gulps.

And then she's finished and she leaves and the thoughts close in again.

He eats the last of the sushi, pours himself another glass of wine, and waits for it to be tomorrow, when he can be on set and be someone not himself.

 

### Wednesday 22 October, 13:30

Karube must have started taking viagra, Jin thinks. The appointment went well, but in those two hours at the Four Seasons they fucked twice and he didn't even get to shower until after time was up. Jin came the second time, with Karube taking it slower and somehow brushing over just the right spot in just the right way. Now he can feel the tiredness as he leans back into his subway seat, a warm glow he once liked.

Other times, he might go to the club, but he doesn't have to. He can take his Thursday break early, take those career books back to the library, see if there are others to take out, or if they have stuff on DIY car mechanics. Can't hurt to learn some of the theory. And the next Harry Potter might be back.

He showers again at home so he smells of himself, gets into jeans and a thin sweater. The local library is just a two-stop walk away; small but convenient. The younger of the two assistants keeps trying to flirt with him, but he's learned to let people down politely.

So when he sees the bank of three computers in the corner and a thought sneaks into his mind, it's easy to ask her if these are for patrons to use and whether they have internet, and to get a logon id. She's cheerful and competent beside him and he ignores that she gets in his space too much – he's used to that, too.

And then she's gone, and this time he remembers the name, remembers to head straight past the first pages of Yahoo results, knows where to go in the newspaper archives… and then he has it. The boyfriend, who told the press that Kamenashi dumped him unfairly because his career was more important to him, little bits about Kamenashi's private life for extra flavour, promises of more. It was in the tabloids and in the broadsheets, on the front pages and the entertainment pages and even, once, on a sports page. It was in the television magazines, the fashion magazines, the home and family magazines, and Jin has no idea how he managed to miss it, except those were his first weeks together with Naoki and everything was new and exciting and he was so happy, and not paying attention to much else.

And sure, it sucks for Kamenashi, but why should Jin care and more importantly, why should Jin deal with the fallout?

He tries to find a picture. Kamenashi's is big on all the front pages, but it takes Jin a little more digging to find a photograph of the guy who got them here.

Finally there's an interview shot, and he feels weird peering at it. So there's long dark hair, surprise, but beyond that… well, okay, if Jin wore his hair back like that then maybe around the eyes and forehead, but it's not exactly twin town. EntameScoop has a _'Private Collection!!!'_ snapshot of the guy in beach gear, tall and lanky and looking almost nothing like Jin, not that Kamenashi beside him looks anything like himself, tiny and skinny and wet-haired, with his eyes all but disappearing into a grin. And finally one where the angle… and the hair and the cheekbones… right, a little creepy there, and Jin doesn't really want to see the resemblance and anyway, the light really had to be just wrong.

So he gets it, so Kamenashi has a type. But presumably he also has a brain, and should know better than to take what happened there out on Jin.

And yeah, Jin doesn't want to think about what it must have felt like to have your boyfriend sell you out like that and… okay, he doesn't need to think his way into this at all, so he stops, but it's still not his fault and he finds himself decidedly short on sympathy.

Curiosity is a different matter, and good thing he's always got earphones because there's still Youtube: more broken links and some take-down notices and then finally a short clip from the day the story broke, Kamenashi vanishing in a sea of flashing cameras, saying, 'we were friends, I thought we were very good friends,' sounding close to crying, and Jin wonders where he was when the shit hit the fan that he had no one to shield him, nowhere to hide. Someone pulls him away, and Kamenashi adds that he will focus on his work and do his best, and then for weeks there is no sign of him.

The newspapers cling on to the story, looking for angles, running interviews with the female co-stars from Kamenashi's romance films, asking about chemistry and dating, and they all call him a perfect gentleman, whatever that's supposed to mean. There are reports of cancelled appearances, rumours of broken-off film deals, news of sponsors pulling out of commercials.

That guy sure did a lot of damage.

Jin finds fan sites, cute things with turtle logos and other things with pictures of Kamenashi looking like he should be in the Johnny's catalogue. He follows their links back to the archives, and finds them in uproar. Fans protest that Kame has betrayed them, they hate him now and don't want to go on living. More devoted fans call for calm and urge the rest to ignore the malicious rumours clearly spread by rivals. _This is the time for us to show that we believe in Kame-chan_ , one of them reads. _No true fan will believe the terrible things people say about him._ Another group is compiling a list of evidence that 'Kame is normal'.

Jin wonders if he knew that was going on – what he did all that time when he was nowhere to be seen. Would have made sense to leave the country for a bit, go to France maybe and ignore everything. But maybe you can't do that when there's reporters dogging every step you take and fans going through your trash cans to see if your porn magazines have breasts in them, and if you are spotted at the airport there'll be headlines about how you're 'running away'.

Youtube has a _ZoomIn_ interview from six weeks after the day the story broke, Kamelooking terrified and so young, stuttering his way through his answers even though there's no reference to the scandal at all; the questions were probably reviewed and approved, and all he's doing is promoting the drama he just got signed for.

Terrified, and though there's a woman with a determined smile sitting next to him, he also looks very alone.

Jin wants to think it serves him right. But his hands are clammy on the keyboard when he shuts the computer down.

At least Naoki only left, when it wasn't working for him anymore. He left a note saying how sorry he was.

Jin wishes he didn't know. He has no business knowing, and he certainly has no reason to care.

He feels like days have passed, not just… he checks… three hours. It's not even dark when he leaves the building.

 

### Wednesday 22 October, 18:00

The boy looks up at Kame with huge adoring eyes, a picture of trust and truthful perfection. The room looks pale with how much light there is, white reflectors smoothing out the shadows, like the brightness that floods their living room when Midori pulls the curtains back.

Kame doesn't know why he thought that. This is a set and his house has four sides to a room, and his living room looks nothing like this.

It's time.

"When I have a son," he says, crouching down so they're at eye level, "I want him to know that I'm always there for him, too." His legs hurt with balancing, and he has to maintain his smile.

The boy breaks into an adorable grin. Everything about his uniform is new, crisp and serious. Kame assumes there's a pan away as they speak more about the features of the one-line phone and try out buttons, and Kame makes the required awed faces that'll speak for themselves when the happy home jingle will play over their voices.

At least they don't have the music here. They played it to Kame when he got in; it's nice, cheerful, insisting that all is right with the world, and Kame nodded and changed into the suit they gave him for this father he's imitating without hiding who he is, because who he is is what they pay him to be.

He came straight from the film set, a fuzzy car ride as his only break, but it's not too different, one good person here or one good person there, doesn't matter. Seiji the teacher will probably make an admirable father with a very happy wife, and he'll sleep at night, too, not be afraid of what comes creeping up at him when he loses focus and opens up to the memories.

He smiles brightly and takes the kid by the hand. He doesn't know if this is a real first-grader – they looked bigger to him when he was that age – but he doesn't care today. He can feel the thoughts swirling at the back of his mind, those questions about what he's doing here. What Souji would have said if Kame came home to him from this, the look in his eyes. That's why he's better off not thinking.

He slept last night, sometime after two. He counts it as a victory.

"Over here, Kamenashi-san!"

Kame smiles at the boy again and turns them a little, for candid shots amongst the official promo material. It never stops.

He likes what he does. He never wanted to do anything else; even this is exactly what he worked for. It only feels so empty because his head is full of nonsense, because of shadows he can't shake. The camera isn't really hostile, won't take more from him than he wants to give.

He should say something, just to be friendly. Something that fits the role. The kid's not a pro, his excitement mostly real. If Kame is lucky there'll be a mention in the set report of how well they got on, maybe a quote about how nice Kamenashi-san was. If he still had a handler they'd shoo him on; he can almost picture it.

"Will your parents buy you a phone like that?" he asks eventually. He doesn't have a handler anymore. Just him, doing the job he loves, trying not to fuck up because he can't sleep. The boy starts on an enthusiastic answer, as if he couldn't wait to tell Kame more about his doting parents. The cameras flash.

 

### Thursday 23 October, 11:30

Some mornings when he sleeps in, it takes him a moment to remember where he is. Nothing bad; the bed he's in and the filtered light through his curtains register before the brief confusion turns into anything else. Jin curls away from the light, pulling the blankets back over his shoulder. Just a few more minutes, because it's warm and quiet and safe, and because it's Thursday.

Their old place got chilly overnight, even when it wasn't winter, and loud in the mornings from the trains. Sometimes it smelled funny, stale clothes and whatever the neighbours had cooked the night before, but it was always nice to cuddle up against the cold.

He dozes off again. The next time he wakes up it's because his hair is tickling his nose and the sun has come around the corner, insisting that it's quite late enough even for people like Jin. So he rolls on his back and stretches, sits up with his naked feet on the floor. He's so glad he's got this place, with a door and a lock and functioning heating, and all his important papers and stuff in one neat drawer.

He gets into sweatpants and a sweater and makes himself some tea. Then he folds away the bed and drapes the bedding over one of his chairs to air with the windows open. The sheets came with the apartment. He didn't mind that, grateful as he was, and they're clean and bland, black cotton, much thinner than the club sheets for clients.

His guitar is still leaning against the shelf and his music scribbles are on the floor, but everything else is pretty neat and nice. Maybe one day when he's been somewhere for a while and has a real, decent job, it'll be his old mess again; he's not sure.

They fought sometimes, over money, over other stuff, and it always felt terrible. But they never fought about the mess.

Jin blinks. Maybe he's not really awake yet. He takes his tea to the bed-turned-sofa and wraps the sofa blanket around himself so he can enjoy the cool autumn air. Vague traffic sounds are drifting in, and a faint wail of a baby, but he's high up and it's a quiet street.

He's got some mail to deal with later. He mostly gets advertising, but sometimes the bank sends him things, and he wants everything to be in order there.

He felt so weird the first time he went to the bank. Ootomo would have paid him in cash; they have that option, it's that kind of business. But it's more sensible this way, and so much safer. It's not long since he had no choice but to carry it around on his body, just one beating away from losing everything he'd earned.

Naoki and he kept their money in an old tin jar. Almost traditional.

With the blanket tight around him, he blows into the steam over the cup. He doesn't know how you can forget your boyfriend. Or not notice you're thinking of him. He'd never forget Naoki.

And even if it sucked to be left alone and too broke to pay rent, sucked to lose the apartment… That was different, that wasn't spite, and there was a note, an apology. Naoki was desperate too, and it wasn't even that much money.

And it sucked even more to be alone with everything that followed, creepy clients and dirty bathrooms and all the nights Jin slept in the cold without knowing who'd sneak up on him, while Kamenashi was busy renovating his warehouse. But Naoki didn't hurt him on purpose, didn't use him to make quick money, didn't set out to ruin…

He doesn't want to get to Kamenashi from there, but maybe it's unavoidable now that he knows. It helps, a little bit, to have an explanation for all the weird stuff Kamenashi tried to pull on him, even if it's no excuse. Jin's not sure whether he's relieved or offended that the creepy humiliation shit wasn't even about him, but either way Kamenashi didn't have a right to do all those things to him to make himself feel better, that much he knows – and he takes a long breath because maybe he shouldn't have thought about them quite so vividly.

Never mind; mystery solved, creepy shit not Jin's problem anymore, and maybe Kamenashi should see somebody about this, like Danny says they do in America, or just drink more like they do here.

Jin drinks up and gets up, blanket and all, to close the windows and take a shower. Maybe he'll drop by the bank and get his statements, maybe he'll do something else. It's Thursday, and he's got better things to do than think about clients, assholes least of all.

 

### Thursday 23 October, 18:00

Kame sinks down on the couch and closes his eyes. Little coloured lights dance on the inside of his head. The day hasn't been long but it's been too long; he slept last night but neither deeply nor enough. He wonders how much longer he can keep going on a couple of hours and toxic dreams.

Souji is everywhere now; as soon as Kame lets go, he's there, or it's the whore, and Kame is failing and losing, no defense and no control. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what he's doing, in these dreams and sometimes while awake, and no matter what he does someone will laugh, someone will leave, and people will know.

When his mind is clearer, he thanks the gods for the club's strict confidentiality clauses. Some things can't happen, won't happen.

He could call. Call and pretend nothing happened; pretend he can trust himself and make a booking.

Only he's not that stupid.

Even if he books Tatsuya, even if Tatsuya is available at short notice, he can't go back with Souji on his brain, the whore on his mind, nothing forgotten and nothing resolved, and no sleep.

He's not safe this way.

He's not sure why he picks the phone up anyway.

He could call Tanaka. But Tanaka will want to meet at the club and Kame doesn't know if he can and doubts that he should. And Tanaka knows more than anyone, but there are still things he doesn't know, and Kame isn't up to explaining, not even to him. Explaining is what got him in this state.

He puts the phone down.

Maybe he should just go out for dinner. But the lights are too bright everywhere and the thought of interacting with menus and waiters seems forbidding. And if he runs into fans, or paparazzi…

He picks the phone up. He can order in.

He puts it down again when he can't think of a thing he might want to eat. He gets up and gets water from the fridge instead, drinks it from the bottle as he boots up the laptop and types Johnny's URL into the browser, and stops to wonder what he's doing.

He turns the laptop off and puts it in its bag, just to be safe. Maybe he should be at the house, not here. He can't do stupid things at random at the house.

But tomorrow's big campaign event starts early in Edogawa, half an hour's drive from the apartment, and there's no point in driving an hour in the opposite direction just to sleep there. After that, it's a different story, his activities next week are all in the city center. This can be his final night here for a while, and he'll just get up earlier for the drive from Mitaka. He'll be shielded by the life he's pretending to live, by Midori's presence, by expectations he has to meet. Maybe he'll even be able to sleep.

And he can finally give the builders the all-clear to do the remaining work in his apartment.

He'll get through this night, and then he'll be gone.

He picks up the phone to call Midori and tell her he'll be home tomorrow night.

~

 _Chapter 23 to follow 11/08/2011_


	23. Chapter 23

### Friday 24 October, 20:00

"If you smile, it's over," Danny is saying as Jin enters the break room, fresh from a relaxation with Suzuki, who must have had his weekly shower that morning. "I give you five minutes."

"Ten thousand says seven," Ryuuhei says where he's waiting by the microwave in boxers and a frayed t-shirt reading _PAAAAAAN!!_ in bright yellow letters.

Jun, decked out in black leather and standing in the space between the table and the TV, gives them a disdainful look. "I don't grin at my clients."

"What's this about?" Jin says, and starts to strip.

"Jun's efforts at domminess," Danny says. "You want in?"

Jin shakes his head. Ten thousand is more than he likes to risk when he remembers living on less for a week.

"I should like you to know that I've done this before," Jun says, but his attempt at a glare is not really convincing when his mouth twitches like that.

"See!" Danny says. "There you go already."

"You're not a client. Let's talk when I have you chained up." Jun snaps the whip he's taken out of Hina's locker. "If Ootomo didn't think I could do it, he wouldn't have asked."

"You're standing in for Hina?" Jin asks. "Is he sick?"

"Complicated case of visiting sister and useless cover story," Ryuuhei says. "Would you believe he told his family he's a private detective? No crappy boss, no convenient overtime, nothing."

"Too much Conan," Jun adds, squirming a bit as he adjusts himself in the skin-tight leather pants. "Warped his mind."

"He could say he's got to trace a fabled diamond?" Okay, so Jin knows it's a bit far-fetched. "Or a poodle." He gets his towel out of the locker and slings it over his naked shoulders.

"And he can't take time out to see his older sister for the first time this year? She'll smell a rat. Easier to take the day off, and change 'career' between this visit and the next."

Jin wonders how many of them lie to their family. Or to anyone else who matters. He gets it, right enough. He knows for himself how the gay thing can go over, and that Tomo was a big risk. Kamenashi lost in a sea of flashlights has nothing to do with it.

As for the whore thing…

A trio of girls in last night's audience asked him what he did, and he mumbled something about part-time work, and that was okay. But he should probably come up with something proper and plausible soon.

They were nice girls, and they live in the area and he wants to know his neighbours better, learn to fit in here. It means that for the first time since this started, there are people who might ask and who mustn't know. For the first time, it would ruin stuff for him; for the first time he's got something in his life that could be ruined.

If Tomo found out…

He needs to think of a cover story soon, he needs some plausible deniability, he needs—

—to stop thinking about Kamenashi and his private life all over the country for weeks. It's different.

It's no excuse. It's no excuse and Jin's not going to care.

As for himself, he'll ask some of the other guys what they say. Maybe not Hina. But someone's bound to have some good advice.

He starts at the crack of the whip, the squeal.

"Hey! My ass!" Danny sounds affronted.

"Out of my way, slave." Jun's standing tall, all hard edges, hard eyes.

Then he giggles, and all three of them have to laugh, too.

 

### Saturday 25 October, 20:00

It doesn't help.

He's with his wife. This is a work thing of hers… a reception. He went to work and then he went home and now he's here, and Midori is like always, steady and kind and poking fun at his absent-mindedness, and he feels like he's stumbling with every smile, stumbling around under a thin cover of protection that can tear at a single wrong step. It's not supposed to be like this. It's not supposed to be harder when he's trying to do better, doing couple things, supporting her.

She looks pretty. The reception is for a new client. A TV production company that specialises in game shows. Kame has paid attention. It doesn't mean anything that he can't remember the name, that could happen to anybody.

He goes rarely enough that he still gets the film star stares, but these people are all in the business and they have at least heard of Midori's successful marriage, so it fades soon enough. Soon enough he's asked his opinion on the Toyota iQ and where he likes to go on holiday, and he gets to lie again.

His half-empty glass has turned warm in his hands, and he's driving, so he doesn't have to drink. He starts looking around for one of the waiters, black-and-white pillars in the midst of a lot of colourful cocktail dresses, and then he stops because Midori is talking and he can't look distracted.

"I liked the city, but we were cooped up in the conference centre until after it was dark, and you know what the boss is like," she says, smiling.

She splurged on a long purple dress with a low neckline to wear to this; she showed it to him twice at home, with her hair still pinned up and sticking out every which way, and then she went with the elegant cream-coloured piece she's often worn to weddings and formal dinners after all. He was puzzled, but didn't say anything. It's not his place to make fun of her after he's been acting so weird.

"He was probably surprised to find the sun was down. 'When did that happen?'"

This woman is a colleague of Midori's; married last year, just back from a holiday, likes the crab snacks. Kame has been careful not to drift away.

Midori laughs. She's had a glass of wine, which always makes her lean into him more, and everyone can see how well they get along and how much attention he pays to her work, and now Midori is talking about their weekends at Kame's parents' house, and he feels so frozen and helpless he doesn't know how they can't see what a liar he is.

Maybe he should have asked her to come to the campaign event last night. Maybe it would have helped to have a familiar soul there.

Or not. He pictures her there, by his side as he watches Sakurai Sho chase the kids around, as he makes earnest conversation with shy high schoolers like it's all easy and natural and true, like he can honestly stand there and be a role model. Maybe he would have felt even more fake, with his wife who doesn't know him there to see him.

He's lost the thread again. When Midori turns to him, he notices her friends have made their excuses and wandered off.

"You holding up okay?" she asks him in a low voice, no accusation, not even suspicion. "Or do you want to go home?"

He shakes his head quickly and firmly. "No, please— this is important."

She makes a sceptical face, the funny one that's always cheered him up.

"Just tell me, okay?" She leans closer, and briefly brushes their hands together. "You've had quite a week." She smells warm and familiar, and she likes him, she has always liked him, and just for a moment he wants to hold on and not care about anything.

But they're in public, and it would be another lie, and it's just because he's tired, anyway. "Let's get another drink," he says, and smiles.

 

### Sunday 26 October, 21:00

Satoshi gives Jin a nudge where they sit watching a baseball match on the big lounge screen. "Sakurai."

Jin angles his head so he can look around the edge of the screen, in time to see Sakurai exchange a bow with the concierge and go sit by himself in the pale-furnished area close to the newspaper rack.

Jin is tempted. But Sakurai went with Jun the last couple of times, and that means Jun's got dibs.

"Jun's on an outside appointment," Satoshi says, as if he's read Jin's mind.

All right then.

"Tag team?" Jin proposes, and they both get up.

It's ten already, and it's been a slow night. Jin had a relaxation at five, nothing since. Not that he's desperate. He's been doing fine this week. So he hung out with Yamatani a bit, avoided Eda, watched Tanaka come and go and wondered if Kamenashi might appear. It's been over a week, after all.

If he does, Jin will apologize to him; it's the right thing to do and Jin's not the asshole here. As for anything else, he'll take it as it comes, but he doubts there are more Kamenashi dates in his future. Trying to treat Jin as a real person didn't seem to be much fun.

When he and Satoshi get close to him, Sakurai gives them each a charming smile, but his gaze lingers on Jin and Jin can feel Satoshi slowing already. You get good at spotting the signs in this job.

"Good evening," Sakurai says to Satoshi, and then, "Hello Jin. Shall we give it a try tonight?"

Just like that. Jin likes it. He smiles back and bows. "Would you like to stay down here for a while or should I get a key?"

They end up having a quiet beer upstairs, followed by a bath. They fit next to each other easily, with room for more closeness, and the conversation fits too, random and easy throughout. Sakurai is tired from a busy week, with campaign work on top of his regular schedule, and only wants to relax.

Jin likes that he has some intelligent questions to ask about the anti-bullying campaign now; it's good to have a topic that's personal to the client.

"Are you enjoying working with everybody on it?"

"Everyone is very nice," Sakurai says, sliding deeper into the rose-scented water, his hand finding Jin's thigh. "And of course we're all convinced that it's a worthwhile cause, so everybody gives their best."

"And you get good press coverage?"

"Oh, yes," Sakurai says. "But the public response is what's stunning. You should see the letters we get from schoolchildren… from adults too, sometimes. We try to reply to them, you know? But it's all very exhausting when you have a full schedule already."

"You have some very busy people involved," Jin says. Just making conversation. The water splashes softly when he turns more on his side, towards Sakurai.

"Bigger stars than me, that's for sure," Sakurai says. His head is leaning heavily on the rim of the bath, his look a little dazed. "But I guess I bring the sports demographic." He laughs. "The others have the rich old gentlemen and the passionate girls from sixteen to sixty all sewn up."

Those passionate girls would be Kamenashi's job.

And Jin's job is to focus on the client he's with, not the one spooking through his head, so he wriggles a little under Sakurai's hand and reaches out himself, strokes a thumb along the dip at a hipbone, then starts to run his hand up towards Sakurai's chest.

Sakurai sighs a little, and when Jin looks at his face, he's closed his eyes. His hair has scrunched up into funky curls with the damp, and his lips part while Jin's watching him.

"Let's get out of here," he breathes. "This is too comfortable. I'll fall asleep, and when I wake up you'll be gone. Waste of time."

They wrap up in fluffy bathrobes to dry off; Sakurai is still warm and glowing when they're on the bed and Jin bares his skin again for touching. There's not much touching back even when Jin loses his own robe; Sakurai seems happy to let him run the show, humming contentedly when Jin tries this and that and eventually spreading his legs in clear invitation.

Not what Jin had expected. But no problem, either, it's not difficult with a nice guy. Jin prepares himself and gets an approving smile when he shifts in between Sakurai's legs.

"I like it slow," Sakurai says, and Jin smiles back and nods. He can do slow.

It's comfortable fucking, no stress; Sakurai's giving Jin signs he can read, responding to Jin in ways he understands, good ways. Jin finds an angle just the right side of teasing and does it slow, and Sakurai likes it, and afterwards they're sprawled on the bed in a sweaty tangle and breathing rather hard.

"Thanks," Sakurai mumbles, and Jin smiles.

"My pleasure."

Within less than five minutes, Sakurai's asleep.

 

### Sunday 26 October, 20:00

"Let me help you!" Kame is slow to catch on when Midori starts putting their dinner dishes away, and she's back for more before he's managed to get up.

She grins at him as she puts their rice bowls into a pile. "Don't. You'll just drop things."

"I should help you," he insists, and somehow his face is burning, though he's not sure why. Maybe the wine they had, though Kame's is still half-full when Midori takes one fragile glass in each hand.

"Just don't drop things on the rug," she says with another smile, and he doesn't understand why she's in such a good mood when he's just useless, useless and distracted.

He grabs some stuff and concentrates, to do his share.

He fell asleep on the couch earlier. He'd updated his mother on his week on the phone, and then Midori took over, wandering off to tell her about the reception and all sorts of other things; Kame remembers hearing a question about the dog and then he woke up two hours later under a blanket, and with Midori watching a movie about midgets on low. By all rights he should feel less exhausted, but somehow the world seems just as askew.

He doesn't drop the rice bowls, but the chopsticks slip out when he bends over the dishwasher and there's a clattering sound that seems loud and hectic. It's just four small pieces of wood, it shouldn't be so loud.

"See," Midori says, peering over his shoulder from behind him, her breath whispering just past his ear. "Told you so."

"Sorry," he mumbles. He feels her hand sneaking under his t-shirt, skimming his stomach and side, tickling on the retreat, and then it's gone and Kame is embarrassed that he just stilled, didn't do something cute or friendly to match the atmosphere. Embarrassed he wished for… he can't, he shouldn't, not with his wife hugging him and this nice, quiet Sunday that could seem perfectly fine and normal if only he stopped getting confused about what things are and when things are and where his mind is allowed to go.

He hasn't thought of the whore all day, and that's good; it's hard enough here without feeling ashamed of that, too. Hard enough with Midori happy like this, kind and calm as ever, an anchor…

The touch stops tingling, and he stops thinking about it. He thanks Midori for dinner and tells her how nice she looks in whatever she's wearing… a denim skirt and a simple t-shirt. And then he asks her about the plans she made with Kame's mother. It gets her talking, and he allows himself to find it soothing, grounding. Almost like before.

Eventually it's time for bed. She has an earlier start than him, and talking about simple things has been soothing somehow, enough to make him think maybe he can sleep too this time. Maybe he can pretend it's okay just long enough for some unconsciousness.

"It was nice you had the Sunday off, at least," she says when they're down to night shirts and bedside lamps. "You needed it."

"Yes," he says, not even knowing if work would have been better anymore. "That was good." He sinks into his pillow and Midori shuffles a bit closer, the light scent of her moisturizer drifting over, and he turns to her just as her hand sneaks under his shirt again, and stays. She smiles a quiet little smile.

Oh god.

He can't. It races through him cold and clear, he can't, because she'll know.

She'll know.

It can't be three weeks yet, it isn't, he's sure, there would have been an alarm. But he never turns her down and he doesn't know _how_ because he never, ever makes her ask twice, and he just knows it's not going to work this time, it will be terrible.

Her fingers stroke a bit. His move. His move now.

He reaches under the blanket and takes her hand, strokes the back of it and hopes it's as gentle as he means it. "I feel like I could sleep forever," he says.

A moment, a tiny frown, oh god. Then her smile spreads sleepily. "Yeah, okay." She kisses him briefly and it seems to give nothing away, and eventually his heart slows down, the rush of nausea fades. He lies very still and pretends to be asleep, long after Midori's breathing has evened out, long after she's let him go again.

 

### Monday 27 October, 11:00

The day's a little grey but dry, with a wind that blows the hair into his face, but not so cold it sneaks under his jacket. Jin was up pretty early, and it's nice to be out and doing stuff before noon, normal stuff that just a month ago, he wouldn't have felt he could.

He smiles at the old guy who sells papers and coffee near the station in the morning, and waves his Suica at the gate to the platform. He's decided to buy himself some sheets.

This morning when he put his bed away he somehow thought it would be all right, and that he won't have to worry about a couple of thousand yen. Last week was good takings.

There's a department store in the shopping centre just three stops from his apartment. It's where he bought the cheap jeans and t-shirts for when he's not working. He hasn't been there much, but he hopes they'll have what he needs.

In the square in the middle of the shops, a few kids in school uniforms are gathered around a cell phone that plays loud tinny music. One of the older girls eyes him briefly, whispering to her friend behind a hand with bright pink fingernails, but then the guy with the noisy cell and the two-shades-of-blond hair catches her interest again. Jin likes the thought that he's boring in comparison.

In the department store, a sign tells him to go to the third floor for curtains and bed stuff. He feels weird and adventurous. The place is full of tidy housewives who all look a lot more competent than he does, and he tries not to look like he needs help, because they remind him of his mom and he doesn't need to think about her.

He also doesn't need to think about Kamenashi's mother, and what it must have been like to read those papers. Jin's didn't even have to face neighbours or colleagues; conveniently contained blow-up, despite how awful it was.

When he reads the price tags of the special offers, it's almost habit to think about how many guys that means, but he shuts that off quickly enough not to skeeve himself out. It isn't the street anymore, and it doesn't work like that anymore.

He might get a nice new down comforter, too, because he can and because it's going to be winter soon. For the sheets, he knows he doesn't want satin or anything cold. Nothing that promises seduction, either, and there's a special-offer green one that turns him off just because of some lacy trimmings and the way the woman is slinking on the packaging.

Eventually he turns to the stern-looking saleswoman who's been eyeing him from the side and tries a smile.

She looks nicer with a smile of her own, and not so strict anymore despite her dark square glasses. "Maybe I can help you find what you're looking for?"

She turns out to be helpful and not too motherly, and it's kind of fun to figure out what he's looking for with someone who knows what she's talking about.

She shows him a comforter that can be split into two thinner ones in the summer, which will be useful when he gets his own place. With the sheets, he almost goes for a set of deep red ones that feel really soft and warm when the woman opens the package for him. Jin likes the strong colour, and they'd look nice with the white walls and furniture, but somehow red is just a bit too loaded for him after all. In the end he picks a navy blue set with some white stripes at the top and blue-and-white pillowcases to match.

The comforter comes in a big poufy casing; altogether the bag he's taking home on the train is pretty big. He'll have to wash the sheets before using them. Maybe he can even hang them up to dry before he has to go to work. He's smiling when he looks out the window. When the middle-aged woman across from him peers at his luggage curiously, for once he doesn't mind.

 

### Tuesday 28 October, 02:00

He's left the light off. Safer that way. Grey and dark and dulled, all the shapes just shadows. Could be someone else's house and not matter. Someone else's kitchen, where he's just a guest, and he can leave when the night is over. He doesn't have to watch his face so much.

He doesn't remember what was in his mind before he woke up. The thoughts are all blurring into one by now. That was an hour ago. After the clock crept on to two, he got out of the bed, so at least he won't wake his wife.

His face feels tired. His legs, his head, his everything.

He thinks of TV, something stupid and brainless and distant, but then he can't find the remote. Everything looks a little different, displaced, and after he hits his elbow on the table he stops. Like it's not his home, his things.

He sits at the dinner table in the end, after the couch seemed to swallow him up and suffocate him. It used to work better than this. He was okay for three years after Souji sold their love to the public and Kame bought forgiveness at the best price he could get. And made it work. He wasn't so unhappy.

It can't just crumble like this.

Midori is fast asleep in their bed and suddenly Kame misses her so much, it's gut-wrenching how much he wants her back.

He almost told her, back then. Came so close to telling her, especially when things were bad. He knows now that he could have. He had a best friend. And then he went and married her.

It's so silent. His beautiful house out in the upscale neighbourhood. They even have a garden. Maybe one day they can have a pond and a swing set and a nice big dog, and for some reason that brings a lump to his throat again, and fuck. Just. Fuck.

Maybe that's a sign. Maybe once you start thinking about ponds at two in the morning in your darkened kitchen, it means you've really gone round the bend.

He needs a break. He hates being alone with nothing but his thoughts, but maybe that's what he needs. At least then he doesn't have to work so fucking hard to hide them.

He wants to open a window, let in some sound, some outside life, even if it's just the sway of leaves and distant cars. But he can't have drafts and slamming doors, and maybe he's safer in here, where even the night can't see him.

Midori can't find him like this. He can't go to anyone, anywhere, before he stops being like this. He's going crazy. He doesn't want Tatsuya to see him like this either, or anyone who matters, and he didn't want the whore to see him like that but that's done and maybe he can find a way so it doesn't matter. Somehow. When he can think again.

The clock on the oven says it's ten to three. He sits, upright, and everything is silent.

 

### Tuesday 28 October, 15:30

"And don't touch my Star Wars DVDs."

Jin taps the ash off his cigarette into the little container and hopes he's not intruding, but Ninomiya just shoots him a grin while explaining the rules of his house to a guest or a roommate or someone else who'd better not eat the whole Galia melon.

"I usually get out half past ten, Tuesdays. I can skip clean-up, we can go for a drink."

It's not Satoshi, Satoshi's in the lounge, and Jin wonders if they'll meet up with him later because Tuesdays are slow for escorts, too, and then he tries not to wonder because their situation must be difficult enough without nosy escorts looking at you nosily.

Though he has to smile when Ninomiya almost leans against the dumpster and then jerks back upright. Not supposed to do that with a waiter's uniform, his grimace says.

Jin takes another deep drag and empties the container into a trash can. Smoking here is okay as long as you don't leave traces.

Ootomo called him while he was still doing yesterday's dishes and asked him to come in early, because he had a bunch of businessmen with two tourists coming in at four.

Now the club's been open for half an hour and the businessmen and their guests are late, and Jin's left the other unemployed escorts in front of the TV and gone outside for a quiet smoke.

Yuu-chan is already with Nakamaru. They have a booking later, and he could have joined them, just to sit, but… well. At least Yuuya seems to have gotten a good start there. "He's cute when he gets all flustered," he'd revealed to Jin the other day. "Did he teach you the thing with the foaming facial cleanser, too?" Jin almost couldn't keep his puzzlement under wraps. But good for Yuu-chan.

"There's a spare key in the drawer under the phone if you want to go out and buy stuff. We'll bring dinner from here, though."

So Satoshi gets to go along. Not Jin's business, but good anyway.

He takes his phone out just to check for missed calls, but of course there's nothing. There might have been, though, and that's still new.

He spent half a week with his part of the torn beermat in his desk drawer, worrying about saving private stuff on his work phone. He and Tomo scribbled down their numbers for each other last Thursday, after the last set of music. Because they figured it would be good if Tomo can call Jin if his car breaks down again. Good if Jin can call Tomo if he can't make it to the Open Mic. Generally… good.

So now Jin has somebody's number on his phone who isn't Ootomo, reception, or a taxi service. It feels precious and fragile and this morning, when Ootomo called him, was the first time he had a real reason to check the display. It would be good to know straight away if it was Tomo, not ever think it might be any of those other people.

The fire door opens and an older waiter stares out with a stern expression, barely brushing Jin with his gaze. "Ninomiya- _san_ ," he says, like an order.

Ninomiya bows with a cheeky-looking wave of his phone. Another stern look before the door closes, and Ninomiya ends his phone call. They all have their bosses to please.

He rolls his eyes at Jin. "We have like, two guests, and six waiters playing janken in the kitchen," he says in confidence, and Jin feels a little uncertain when he nods back over his shoulder, says, "Yeah, same in there."

Ninomiya grins, not offended by the comparison at all.

 

### Tuesday 28 October, 16:00

"…these guys who try to tell you it's cool to break things and defy adults, aren't they just… insecure? Aren't they just trying to get you to join them so… so they can be less insecure…"

"Cut!"

Kame closes his eyes briefly and swallows down the curse. He bows, at Iijima, at Morioka. "I'm very sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

It's their third time for this take, the third time he's screwed up, in a different part of his little speech each time, things that went right on the first take going wrong now, and…

It's like his brain isn't connected to his mouth. No part of him is connected to any other part. And of course he knows what's wrong, but it's not like he can say, and he's supposed to be a pro. He never forgets his lines.

Iijima is grumbling something under his breath and Kame doesn't doubt that it's rude. There's a lot of sighing.

Morioka, on the other hand, shows no impatience, merely nods politely. "No problem." Then he turns to Iijima. "One brief moment, please."

When Iijima nods, he heads out past the cameras to where Genda and Kobi are waiting for him to finish the take so they can go out for dinner. Kame quickly shuts the thought off. He doesn't want to think about the fact that Morioka's stopped asking him even on group outings, about how he's become distantly polite with Kame and pointedly physical with the rest of the boys.

There's a very quick exchange between them, inaudible, and Morioka gives them a couple of friendly shoulder punches before they leave.

He rejoins Kame with a little bow and no expression. "Sorry."

"Right," Iijima says with a heavy sigh, "let's try again."

He gets it wrong twice more and wants to bang his head against the wall – but nobody here will be amused by an additional display of unprofessionalism. Weeks ago, Morioka might have laughed.

In the end he labours through the monologue, and he doesn't know how Morioka still manages to make his responses look as fresh as the first time round. He can feel that his own delivery is washed out and pedantic, no help to anybody. The best he can say is that no words are missing.

"That's a take," Iijima says, and it sounds resigned.

Kame bows again; apologizes again.

Everyone is polite about it. Nobody asks if he's all right.

Probably for the best, because the last thing he needs, on top of Souji and the whore and disappointing Midori and ruining takes and never ever sleeping anymore, is a public breakdown in front of conveniently located cameras.

Morioka is gone, with a brief goodbye to everyone. Kame takes a toilet break. If he splashes water into his face, he'll have to apologize to the make-up artist, too, so he just leans his head against cool tiles and closes his eyes.

He doesn't even know what he needs any more.

He can't face Midori like this, her expectations or disappointment or understanding. He needs to be away from anyone who thinks they know him, which is everyone. He needs space to think and somehow sort himself out.

He needs to do something; but first he needs to get through the next shoot.

 

### Tuesday 28 October, 17:15

Jin curses as some button cancels him out of wherever he'd got to, not that he's sure it even matters. "Isn't there a manual for these things somewhere?"

Junno's at the table with some ramen, in shorts and t-shirt just like Jin, back from a relaxation just like Jin, too. Business picked up when the tourists got there at last.

"Ootomo probably keeps one in his office, together with the hundreds of warranties." The club buys its cellphones in bulk, some deal with the old guy who likes Ryuuhei.

Jin makes a face. He doesn't need Ootomo wondering why he suddenly wants to differentiate between callers.

"I'm pretty good with these things," Junno says. "What are you trying to do?"

"I've heard you can get a different sound for different people when they call, right?"

"Ah. Ring tones." Junno nods a few times, fast; then he slurps three big mouthfuls of ramen in very quick succession, stands, slurps another one, and drops down beside Jin. "It's easy."

"Ah," Jin echoes.

"For existing contacts, yes?"

"Yeah." Jin's make for a short list, and now he's especially glad he was cautious about putting—

"Okay," Junno says, shifting closer, "so hit the button you used to put them in. Contacts. Down there, yes."

Jin feels a bit exposed with Junno looking, but there's just 'Tomo', no full name, no last name. Junno doesn't ask if it's boyfriend or family. "Okay," Jin says when the details screen appears, "and now?"

Junno talks him through some totally unexpected steps until there's a list. "Scroll down these slowly and they'll play, and you can pick one you like."

Jin never knew his phone could make so many weird sounds. He settles for a mellow sort of chime in the end.

"You can use songs, too, if you put them on there first," Junno says when he's stopped laughing at Jin's reaction to the more outlandish noises.

"Thanks," Jin says, and thinks maybe he'll record Tomo at the Open Mic. "That's really helped." He wants to ask about recording, but he can ask Tomo that, too, and he doesn't want to bug Junno. And Junno's had important stuff going on too. "How are you doing, have you had your results yet?"

"End of next week," Junno says, returning to his noodles. "So many people take the test, it's kind of slow."

"How did you find out about… what you need to do? Did you ask at a job centre, or read books, or did you know somebody?"

Junno gives him a long look. "In a rush to get out?"

Jin shrugs. "Not immediate, but… sure, eventually."

"Hm." Junno nods. "I was wondering, the other week."

Oh. Jin thought he'd held it together better than that. But the memory's still making him tense up a bit so… maybe not. "That was a… a bad week," he says. "It's not so bad now."

Junno hmms again like he doesn't quite believe him, but it's true, things are way, way better, and besides that they're too complicated now for a five-minute summary.

"Show you something else," Junno says, and puts his chopsticks down again. "What's your number?"

Jin recites it obediently and Junno punches buttons on his own cell. Jin's rings. He gives Junno a questioning look.

"Hello," Junno says brightly into his handset, and feeling stupid, Jin answers the phone.

Now he's got Junno's voice in stereo. "Look for the most recent number in your log, add my name to it, and voila, new contact. I liked that ringtone that sounded like a chicken."

He rings off. Jin stares at his phone, and then stares at Junno.

"Call me up some time," Junno says, "when you want a break. Do you play billiard?"

 

### Tuesday 28 October, 18:00

Finally done. The moron script is lying on the passenger seat, and Kame dumps his bag on it. He'd hoped to read it again during breaks, but ended up too busy drinking cup after cup of watery coffee and trying to stay awake. He'll have to look at it tonight – the agency expected a signature at the end of last week.

He's still tired.

A few streets down from the studio, he stops at a Starbucks, because he doesn't feel safe driving, never mind moron scripts and decisions at night.

The coffee at the club is better. But the club is far away, and he doesn't know if or when he can go back.

The line inches forward, people unable to decide between vanilla and caramel syrup, cow milk and soy, sprinkles or not. At least that's his guess; any conversations are drowned out by the noise of the milk foamers and the coffee grinders.

He could fall asleep in this noise. Why can't he fall asleep in his bed?

He mustn't forget to call Midori; he can't go home like this.

All those places he can't go, won't go… he's running away. But he can't face Midori's kindness, and her concern will just make him feel more ashamed. He doesn't know what to do about a situation where telling the truth will hurt her more than him.

He gets a cappuccino grande with a couple of extra shots, and takes the first few sips without starting the car.

The whore was different. He could have saved that one, if he'd been prepared for the blow. No kindness there to throw him off balance, and he should have known to expect ridicule. Should have been mature about it. He could have done that.

Maybe he can still do that. Demonstrate he got over himself, no hard feelings, have the unremarkable sex he'd planned for last time.

If the whore will come.

But he didn't seem scared, last time, and if Kame books a rest…

It's worth a try. Refusal won't leave him in a worse place than he is now.

Ootomo is there after one ring as usual, and he sounds friendly enough. Maybe the whore-report read 'no bondage, no threesomes, wine acceptable, conversation hilarious'. Maybe.

Kame has scribbled his line on a piece of paper. "I'm very sorry to call at such short notice, but I wonder if Jin is available tonight, for a rest." Nothing else. He won't say anything else.

There's a brief pause, and someone paranoid might imagine that Ootomo is sending the ceiling an exasperated look. More likely he's checking the duty roster.

"I should be able to discuss his schedule with him in ten to fifteen minutes," Ootomo says. "May I call you back?"

Kame agrees, even though it means he's stuck in the car park because he's too tired to trust himself taking calls on the road.

The moron script is just as bad as he remembers. Hamaguchi will be pleased if he takes it, though, and he ought to take her advice on these things, be the harmless straight hero she and everyone else wants him to be. Nobody needs him to play intellectuals… or warriors.

When he can't stand it any more, Ootomo has still not called back, but it's only been seven minutes and there's no need to worry. He waits, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

When his phone rings he's almost afraid to answer.

"Jin can be with you in an hour," Ootomo says.

Another chance. He can salvage this, win back the ability to go to the club and look people there in the face. He'll live with the gossip about his past, as long as he doesn't have to feel embarrassed thinking of what he's been doing recently… as long as that's cleared up.

"Would an hour and a half be acceptable?" Just in case he gets stuck in traffic. An hour would be cutting it close, particularly since he still wants to shower.

"Of course," Ootomo says, and after the usual politenesses, they end the call.

He'll deal with the food later, when there's no rush and he can work up an appetite; he's got his usual places. He'll manage to fill the awkward pauses while they wait, somehow. And he'll handle mockery, he'll handle animosity and furtive judging, and if necessary, he'll point out mildly that he's paying for the services of a professional. There's nothing the whore can throw at him this time that he can't handle.

He's going to make this work.

 

### Tuesday 28 October, 18:30

For once, Jin would have taken a cab if he'd thought it might get him to Uguisudani in time. The subway is crowded and hot, and being squeezed against commuters so tightly he couldn't fall over if he tried does nothing for his suit. It's a miserable time to travel to an appointment.

He finds a small grin. Not like Kamenashi is known for making Jin's life easy.

But here he is again, for reasons not entirely clear to himself except that it's another rest, and Ootomo asked him twice if he was sure and confirmed as often that the terms of engagement still stand, and Jin wants to clear up that… thing. He doesn't like being in the wrong, least of all with something like that.

And Yamatani at their relaxation was talking about how his granddaughter's newly dead budgie is going to be designated Benji the budgie buddha at a big children's party at Christmas, and it reminded him of his first Christmas with Naoki and the cool motorcycle gloves Naoki gave him, and how he didn't figure out until two months later that Naoki probably fucked a couple of guys to afford that, and from then they didn't do presents like that. And then he wondered what Christmas is like when you're ultra hyper famous and rich and lying to everybody, and— startled when Yamatani said, "You look thoughtful."

He decided then that he needs to stop doing this, because it's idiotic. Maybe seeing Kamenashi and letting his attitude infuriate him will help with that.

As for Yamatani, Jin smiled at him and said, "Just thinking about Christmas," and they both agreed it was a complicated time, while they sipped their freshly squeezed orange and persimmon juice and Jin lounged back on the couch with his bathrobe open because even though Yamatani won't say so, he does like to look, and Jin is comfortable letting him.

He clings to the pole as there is a surge forward at the station, a guy with ineffective deodorant pressing into him from behind, and the woman whose foot he just stood on giving him an offended look which melts into a smile. He bows, mutters his apology, and she's all, "No, never mind," and seems disappointed when he doesn't want to analyze the transport system with her.

So, Kamenashi.

Nothing comfortable there, and he's not fooled by the last time, he's packed his peanut bars again. Not taking chances.

He has no idea what Kamenashi wants with him, if this is some weird brand of masochism or if he plans to get back at Jin somehow. He was sure it was over.

But fine. This could be a good thing. He can get them off on the right foot – he'll apologize for laughing, and that should help, because he really means it. And he can tell Kamenashi he gets it, he really does… but Jin isn't that guy and none of that was his fault, and Kamenashi's got to see that. Going by the last date he's maybe bought a clue, and even if that went wonky, surely he knows he's got to get over himself.

And if Kamenashi still wants to be an ass… Jin's got the upper hand now; he knows this clear as day, and it's not like he wants to use it but if Kamenashi tries _anything_ …

It's his stop.

~

 _Chapter 24 to follow 18/08/2011_


	24. Chapter 24

### Tuesday 28 October

There's dust everywhere. A dry grey film on everything, dulling all colours, and Kame blinks for a moment before he remembers it's not a trick of his mind but the result of work he authorized. Great. Perfect.

He feels tired when he bends down to take off his shoes, sees the fine grit on the hardwood, decides not to bother. The way his day's going, he'll step in… nails or tools or whatever they left behind. He keeps his shoes on. Whatever.

His back feels sweaty from the drive, hard and knotty from air conditioning, or from not sleeping, who's keeping track anymore. He wants to sit, he wants to focus. He wants to feel like he knows how to do this. Maybe he also wants a beer.

He's running late already, some accident and endless waiting on the expressway, every traffic light jumping to red as soon as he looked at it. He had things to do, some preparation, a shower, the table… god, the dust on the table…

He'll deal with it. All of it. He just needs a few minutes to sort out his head, recover the plan. A moment's peace. A beer, and the blinds down. Somehow it's important to get the blinds down.

He looks for the remote forever, has a chance to get a really good look at the dirt up close before he finds it, and the high drone of the motor is a blessing. The bed's the only thing they covered up, and he pulls the thin fabric sheet off, throws it over the couch clean side up, to avoid ruining his shirt and pants because who knows when the whore will get here, and Kame can't look like shit. And then he gets his cool beer and sits down and looks around.

At least it looks like they're almost done, fresh plaster in a couple of places, no obvious holes in the walls. Watanabe-san will be able to clean the place up tomorrow, get some overtime in; she likes that. It'll be impeccable by the time she's done.

He takes several deep swallows of beer and closes his eyes.

It's just a few hours. He's had harder gigs before than a date with a whore who thinks Kame is pathetic.

Not the thought he wants in his head; not the right concept for expensive secret sex. But whatever, it's true and it'll do. It's just a few hours.

He stares hard at the dirty floor because he can't afford to fall asleep. God, wouldn't that be funny. Now, of all times. He can dream of the whore. The whore, laughing.

Stop.

He stops. Calculates how soon he has to get up to be on set at ten, with and without a breakfast stop somewhere. His mind goes blank somewhere on thick black coffee.

When he has the next conscious thought, the bottle is half empty. He thinks he should maybe wipe the table; one more step he won't have to take with the whore looking on and knowing he wasn't ready, he's not on top of this.

He feels the beer when he gets up, just a bit, because he hasn't slept much, hasn't eaten much, hasn't done anything that would help. But it passes with concentration, and he takes the bottle over to the kitchen, leaves it empty in some corner without minding the dirty worktops. He's not cooking, so it doesn't matter.

He gets the cloth, wipes the table, wipes the chairs for good measure, and then he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know. What to do, what to expect, how difficult it will be.

He's still holding the cloth when the doorbell rings.

For a moment he just stands. Then he gets it together, puts the cloth down carefully. Goes to the door.

He gives the security screen the barest of glances; he knows the voice. He buzzes him in.

He rinses his hands at the sink while he counts the moments until there'll be a knock on the door.

"Good evening," he says as he opens the door. Normal, civilized. A searching look meets him; inspecting, of course. Kame shouldn't be surprised.

"Good evening."

Not sure what that is – bland, tentative, maybe even ironic… maybe not. Maybe it's just the hair and the different mouth, the light and shadow on his doorstep, maybe Kame is hallucinating. But he's never seemed tall like this before, or met Kame's eyes like that.

No matter. Really, it doesn't matter. "Please come in," Kame says, stepping back. They're here. It's happening.

"Thank you for asking me over again." Also normal. Courteous.

"Leave the shoes on, it's dirty," he says, without apology, without looking for anything.

"Thank you." Maybe the ridicule is concealed. Maybe Kame just can't hear it for staring past the dark head. It's all such a mess. "I guess this was very short notice, huh?"

"Yes." Kame's not listening but at least this is easy, he's done this before. He gestures, at jacket and bag, the usual invitations to get comfortable. It works well enough. "My plans change. I'm often busy. I hope you had a good trip."

"Thank you, it was fine." And there's a pause after he's taken his jacket off, and an uncertain glance around, and now he's diffident again, the way Kame expects from this one. It almost feels reassuring until he says, "Do you mind if I use your bathroom? I'd like to wash my hands."

It sounds so harmless, so reasonable that Kame never figured it out at the start, until Takuya started to leave the door open and _really_ just washed his hands. Until the client's known to be safe, this is where the first call-in happens. He laughed about it with Tatsuya.

This time the door is closed. After more than two years, he's back where he started.

He thought he did everything right. At least here. And he did until…

Just get through this.

It doesn't take so long. He doesn't hear water, but he's not listening for it. Didn't hear any last time, but last time… last time…

But Ootomo still took his call.

The whore is back. Beautiful, composed, waving his hands a little as though drying off the last of the excuse. Looking at Kame where Kame's just standing there, forgot to sit down.

"Sorry about that," he says, and before there can be more of those odd looks, Kame knows it's time to be decisive.

"I think we should sit down now." He hasn't even got the couch ready, just that sheet tossed half-hearted on top of it. But it will just have to fucking do.

"No. Wait."

Wait? What else now, how is that… who does he think, _what_ does he think he is? Why is he looking at Kame like that, with his eyes strange and—

"I need to apologize to you."

No. Kame stares, just for a moment with the words high and floating, before it hits him low in the gut. Where this is going. And he can't do this. Not now. Not on top of all the rest. Not Souji now. He has to stop it. "I don't need you to—"

"I shouldn't have laughed the last time, when you told me that. I didn't know what happened there, with your boyfriend, but I get it now. I looked it all up."

He can't. No, he can't. Can't breathe, can't think. He always knew it was out there, never checked because he didn't want to see it, and now this whore did, Kame led him to it, and now he's got to listen to him _talk_ about it.

"…and I'm really sorry." Fidgeting, an earnest blink.

But he's just some whore, and he doesn't know anything, even if this stupid light makes his face all wrong and confusing.

"It's enough," Kame says. His voice doesn't sound right. "I don't mind, it doesn't matter." You can't hurt me. He can't say that, it sounds pathetic.

"Don't say it doesn't matter. That guy… you broke up and then he went to the papers, didn't he? That's what happened?"

How does it not stop. Why can't Kame shut him up, why can't he find words and why are his eyes so hot? Why is it all rushing in on him, the fear and the lights and how alone he was, with some flawed version of Souji's face looking at him as if he needs pity.

"Yes," he says, turns away for a blurry glance at the couch, but he can't sit when that man stands there and looks at him and won't stop talking. He can't sit until he's shut him up. "Yes." It's all too much, every word is thick in his mouth. "That's what happened."

It goes quiet. So quiet that the single step towards him sounds loud enough to make him flinch, but thank god the man stops, thank god he doesn't come closer.

"That's pretty horrible."

Quiet; so soft it creeps under his skin, knowing and intrusive.

Kame closes his eyes and hopes the whore can't see, he doesn't know anymore what the whore can see and what he saw and what he knows when he looks at Kame. His neck hurts and his eyes hurt and he wants to run away but where would he go, this is it, he's stuck.

"It's fine," is what he says, or thinks, he can't tell with all this noise in his head, and why can't he stop this, why can't he just stare him down and set them straight about what can be dragged up here and whose business it all is, and where the fuck is his self-control that he's shaking like this?

There's silence again, and maybe he's done now, maybe… he's said his rehearsed little piece and this is it, and in a moment Kame will surface from this and in three hours he may even be able to have sex. He doesn't know how he'll get through dinner, but he's starting to feel less dizzy again, he can breathe, can look.

"No," the whore says. "It's not."

"Shut up," Kame hears, and it burns because he's back there, just like last time, he's going to lose this one too but he won't, he'll— "Please," he says. Gulps down the thickness in his throat and tries again, good-client-style. "Please. This is none of your business."

"I do look a bit like him."

Why does he sound like that, so quiet, like he's learned something, when Kame can see the similarity with his eyes closed?

And Kame can't throw him out now, he told himself he'd do better this time.

"I guess… I get that better now. Your…. The thing you have about him and about me."

Yes, the whore understands him. Gets it all. Because Kame told him and because Kame's spread out for the entire country to see.

"That… stuff. Did it help?"

"Shut up." He says it as coldly as he can, all his strength in his shoulders as he tries to stare, be stern, and the whore is wide-eyed and much too near, searching his face like he wants things, and Kame feels his throat close.

"I mean, I… oh, please don't—"

"Shut up." He backs away, trapped by the coffee table and the dark eyes that won't leave him.

The whore inches forward and Kame's skin feels hot with every heartbeat.

"Is there anything— if that helps, we could…"

They. Him and the whore and that face and Kame can't even breathe.

"I don't mind, if you wanted… to be rough again?" The whore goes blurred and distant before him and Kame wants to turn his back and run, to somewhere, anywhere. "Or if… I could ask for stuff, or…"

It trails off, finally. To blankness, everything torn and fraying but it's over, at last, it's—

"Like…" More. Kame wants to scream at him. "Like acting some— you could say that stuff again and I'll… I could beg for things, or if you wanted to…" He's faltering but it's not enough, it doesn't _stop_. "…to do stuff, to…" Stuff. Swimming up between them, skin ties come tight heat and apologies, and laughter, and the whore's busy eyes, not leaving him alone, _thinking._ "Would you want to piss on me." It comes fast. Kame blinks. "If that helps," the whore says.

And he's… waiting, and Kame is staring, and… and he needs to say something, to this, if only to wipe that horrible look of pity off his face, needs to do something and maybe… maybe he should just do what the whore wants and that'll shut him up. Shut him up good.

"Fine." His breath is dry. The air is still, static; the whore unwavering.

And then there's a surge, a whole-body shiver when that look stops strangling him, lets him breathe, because they know how to deal with it now, and his thoughts spin off in crazy colours with the rush to his head, the reeling sensation.

A nod. No hesitation. Pulling him back, to ground him. Kame holds his eyes. It's easier now.

"Over there," he says.

The whore just goes, goes where he points. Away from furniture. From the kitchen. Empty space.

Kame can feel every hair on his body, tingling and eerie. He rolls up his sleeves on the first two steps, because he won't… it won't… he will…

And then he's there and the whore goes down, clothes and all, kneels down into the dust, and Kame's legs feel heavy with heat, the floor pressing up against the soles of his shoes.

The last step feels slow, feels like work.

He thinks he's aroused but there's so much else, the blood in his ears, the need to set them _right_ , the naked feeling where his hands move and the whore waiting, looking up tame and unthreatening now and maybe this is all it takes to keep him in check, maybe he likes it.

Doesn't matter. So they'll both like it. And know where they stand, and how much he has to care what the whore thinks, and the heat is spreading out along his spine, the slip of his clothes is so easy it hardly registers.

Only the metal of the buckle, because it's colder, because his fingers are hot and numb, and then he has to breathe.

This is crazy. This— That guy, on the floor. Ready for. The floor, and his home and this. This is crazy, and he's not that crazy, not yet.

Those eyes focus, sharpen. The chin comes up. Tall while kneeling. Or something. Something in his face. Not quite right. But wrong. Darkening.

"How about it," the whore says, low and knowing. "Kazuya."

And his breath stops again, thoughts collapsing and the heat gone and grey, and he does it.

Flinches when the first spurt hits, high, and those eyes fly shut but that's it, all stillness once the stream stops wavering, wetness spreading, shining tracks running down, missing nothing, turning everything under them shut, closed, tight.

Darkness bleeding into pale fabric. Drips on the floor from hair; trickles seeping from seams, still, steady, like the draining rush that leaves him low and loose and shaky…

Then it's over.

Kame hears his own breath, loud and stuttering. That's all.

No breath from below. No nothing.

He doesn't move. Doesn't know where, to what. He can't stop staring. At that strand of hair, limp and wet down along his face, like there's nothing to be done about it. Eyes closed. Mouth tight, white, wet.

Finally the soaked shoulders stir, slow and heavy. Breath, maybe, or thoughts, or some focus. Maybe something clearer than the lurching tangle in Kame's mind.

The eyes open. Blink moisture from the lashes fast, once. And stay low. That's… maybe that's a good thing.

Stay low where… Kame's hand with Kame's dick… and something pulls tight in Kame, heavy and dull and cold, he's naked here…

"Should I…"

Oh. That. Kame didn't… but they do that. So often. He's probably right it's next, what else… Kame should have thought of it. "Sure," he says, and his voice sounds no better, no more alive.

No nod, no sound. Just leaning in, follow-through… Kame's almost scared but of course it'll be fine, he asked, it comes next, it's happening.

He's jittery, out of place, everything tender and weird and it does nothing, the heat and the pull and the high spike of sensation, nothing to help the mess in his head.

Nothing is clear – it's too strange, too much, he's high with how much he can feel but it's all spinning, bright shifting swirls and he can't track anything, feel where it's good.

He stares unfocussed, down between them at hair and skin and slickness and he thinks they're faster now, maybe he's responding. His legs feel weak. Too fast, lips slipping off with a wet startling sound… and then the heat comes back and everything sinks further. He wants to cringe and he wants to stop and then suddenly it rises, every hot splinter of the night coming together and dragging him up, up, and over, a soggy washed-out flare and he puts a hand on Jin's shoulder, he's not sure he can stand.

He tries… he doesn't want to be too heavy, he just needs a moment. This has to go away if he just waits. The damp under his hand is better than falling.

Just one moment. Or two.

But now. Now he has to stand, to think, to figure out what now.

Jin is so still. Not even tensing against the burden.

What are they doing.

It's only when he pulls back, stands on his own again, that Jin even moves; seems to look for Kame's retreating hand, and along, and up, and suddenly Kame doesn't know how to face him, but when he meets Jin's eyes there's nothing demanding a response, they're so wide and dull that Kame wonders how he can see through that haze at all.

His head is swimming, and he can't see Jin breathe, he can't see anything through that distance except—

His face, he thinks, I pissed on his face, and it almost pulls him under again, the hair, it got in Jin's hair and on his clothes, it got everywhere, and he pissed on Jin's face, and now… now… now maybe he shouldn't go to pieces.

Jin looks like Kame shouldn't go to pieces.

Jin shouldn't kneel there anymore.

He tries to sound normal, low enough so his voice doesn't break when he finally pulls the words together. "If you want to get cleaned up…"

And then the floor shifts under him as Jin comes alive and Jin _sees_ him and his eyes are naked, naked and scared.

Oh god. Kame doesn't know, doesn't get why now, why Jin looks as if the ground suddenly opened into free fall and how do you stop it when you don't know, how can he catch this after what he _did_?

"You can have a t-shirt of mine," he says, voice cracking high and helpless. "Please…" He doesn't know what he's even asking, what right he's got, and Jin blinks at him, slowly, like nothing makes sense.

"I… I've got one… that could fit you. Maybe a bit small but it'll work…"

And he is stuck; hears Jin breathe out as if it hurts, but at least something's changing behind his eyes, or Kame thinks so, hopes so because anything's better than that… thing Kame did to him.

"It's blue," he says.

And Jin's still staring at him like he's drowning, but Kame will take even that because at least he no longer looks so afraid.

He should get up… he should really get up, he's been there so long, way too long, and maybe it would help if Kame got out of his way. He steps aside— and goes cold and weak at the quiet splash around his shoe. He doesn't look, feels his face flame as he stares at Jin. Jin who's barely flinched, seems to be concentrating quietly on something else, something far away while his eyes never leave Kame's face.

"Come up?" Kame says, still with a stranger's voice, all wobbly and wrong. "Please."

He's so relieved when Jin nods, once.

It feels like a long time. Jin moves like he's drugged, or stunned, and Kame tries not to listen to wet fabric unfolding and stretching when he finally pushes himself up, stands.

"You should shower," Kame says. Like it's news to anybody. "I mean." Jin has never even showered here. "It's there." He tries to point and even his arm feels all weird. "And it's not— it does—" Complicated things, and maybe, with Jin looking like that… "I should show you that. How that works. And towels. Where they are. But I'll get your shirt first." And maybe wake up, or sober up, or get some common sense back.

Jin nods again. Kame steps back again, but doesn't turn before Jin has started moving, has understood… good. Bathroom, shower, shirt. It should help. Clean shirt.

He rinses his hands in the kitchen sink. Goes to the wardrobe, dust on all the handles and he wants to apologize for that, but Jin is waiting and his brain feels so stupid.

He can't find the blue shirt. He knows the one he meant, it's too big on him, but he can't find it and he doesn't know why, but then he stops himself from freaking out, takes a white one that's not tight on him and hopes it will do.

"Sorry for the wait," he says when he's at the bathroom door. Jin has left it open. He's standing before the glass shower wall, and when he looks at Kame it's hesitant, fragile. But he keeps looking.

Kame swallows, tries to be slow, wishes his bathroom were even larger. "Here, this," he says, and when his brain has a lucid moment he thinks to put it on the rim of the tub next to the shower. Jin won't want to touch it now. "I couldn't find the blue one. Sorry."

"It's fine," Jin says, vaguely, looking on as if he's memorizing where it is. "Thank you."

"Towels are in the tall cabinet. Large ones… wait." Kame gets three out, puts them on a stool closer to the shower. "There. Take more if you want. As many as you like."

"Yes. Thank you."

"Now, the shower," Kame says, and he feels guilty that there's so much to explain. "It's not really complicated, just the spray thing—" Oh god, spray. "It gets pretty strong, I like it when I'm tired and I've been—" Jin doesn't want to hear Kame's life story, Jin wants to clean Kame's piss off his face and hair. "Anyway. If you turn here you get it softer, and you can switch the lower jets off with these buttons if you want. Okay?"

"Okay," Jin says.

"And this is the soap and this is shampoo and this is conditioner," Kame finishes quickly.

"Shampoo," Jin repeats, watching the rack in the shower. "I got it. Thank you."

"Just, take as long as you like. Really."

Time to leave, high time. Some privacy. Kame backs away, but stops halfway because… "Okay?"

Jin's eyes are still wide, but he's not afraid of looking at Kame. "Okay."

Good. Okay works. Jin knows… stuff.

Kame's out and closes the door and leans against it quietly. Calmly. Breathes. Looks forward to the moment when he can just crumple and maybe drink himself into oblivion. Right now he can't, he shouldn't, he doesn't get to. He has things to do.

He backtracks along the trail they left between kitchen and bathroom, sidesteps… the main site, and takes off his shoes when he's on dry marble. Rinses the soles quickly in the sink, puts the shoes on some paper towels in a corner.

He can't leave this for the cleaner. He can't leave it until Jin comes out of the bathroom, either.

He takes a minute or three to stare ahead out the window anyway. Just to make himself think. He never does any cleaning here.

A day of firsts.

Paper towels. He's got paper towels. He's got freezer bags. That'll have to do.

The puddle's gleaming, misshapen, and when he sees the little specks of dust floating on it, and the trail where their wet footsteps turned the dust to smears, he almost feels sick.

But he doesn't get to do that either. He gets to work instead.

He balls up several sheets and throws them on where it's deepest. More and more as the stains soak through. He tells himself they could be anything. When the whole area is covered and the tissue doesn't turn to mush anymore, he pulls two of the freezer bags over his hands, remembers the trash can, pulls it close.

He watches carefully where he steps, lifting the wet rags into the can, large handfuls he can't let go of quickly enough.

More fresh towels for the rest, damp stains, no mistaking now what they are. He just tries not to think about it. Tries not to think when he goes for the smeared outliers, when his trash can fills so high he has to push the tissues down, when he starts a new roll to wipe with water and then dries it all up again. When he looks at his floor and the clean path he has made among all the dust, almost as noticeable as the puddle and their tracks had been.

But clean.

He's lost track of time. All that must have taken a while. He can't hear the sound of the shower any more, that soft hiss in the pipes. Jin could come out any moment.

He washes his hands again, then stands a moment with a hard grip around the edge of the sink. The metal is colder than the wood. It's dark outside. Dark and cloudy. That probably means the night won't get so cold.

Maybe he should open a window.

Maybe the draft will be cold if you have wet hair.

Jin hasn't come out yet.

Kame didn't say where the hair dryer is.

He waits, and waits some more. Opens a window after all, but stays beside it, watching the night, listening for the bathroom door, letting the shudders crawl through him at every image that returns.

He can't even remember the anger.

He closes the window. Shuts down on wondering how on earth it could happen like this, because he should be alert, and with it, and capable of stringing more than two thoughts together when Jin comes out. Make sure Jin gets home. Make sure he's not in some crazy state that will scare Jin again.

He wipes his hands on his trousers. Just sweat. He knows that. He rinses them again anyway.

Jin still hasn't come out.

And suddenly it seems too long, it seems dark and meaningful and when Kame closes his eyes he sees tiny dots again, like something is pressing down on his lungs.

It's the last thing he wants, to invade Jin's space. But it's too quiet, and Jin was so still, and when Kame stands in front of the door with his head low and his eyes closed, he still hears nothing. He knocks softly. Nothing.

Jin didn't lock.

Faint steam drifts through the open crack, and the familiar scent of his shampoo, and no reply when Kame asks, "Are you okay," to check, to warn.

The haze clears more when he opens the door all the way, and Jin's there, at the far end of Kame's long bathroom, on the edge of the tub. He's got the shirt on, and it's tight over his chest; Kame had forgotten there was a Gucci print on it. Jin's own black boxers. He hasn't looked up.

Kame steps in slowly. Jin's shirt is a soggy bundle of fabric outside the shower; but set aside from it, draped more conscientiously, are Jin's pants.

That's what Jin's looking at, so focussed that he's not raising his head to acknowledge Kame even for a moment.

"Hey."

Jin only breathes, stretching the fabric more, and seems to focus harder. His hair is wet and back from his face but he doesn't look like anyone else now, just drawn in, and small even with the close fit of Kame's shirt.

Kame crouches down, holds his balance carefully so Jin can see his face. "Jin?"

A nod; it doesn't disturb the focus. "Yeah."

Jin's naked legs. The pants. And Kame swallows hard because god, he wouldn't want to put those on either.

"Leave those," he says, and his voice cracks again because he should have said that minutes ago.

"I'll get dressed," Jin says, going tense with slow resolve, and Kame grabs his wrist before he can push himself upright, holds him down so he can't reach for that filthy thing.

"Just leave it," he says, all thick and low, and Jin doesn't pull out of his grasp, but he's not settling again, either, just waiting.

"I've been worse," he says, still staring past Kame. "It's okay."

"No. I'll find you something. Something better. Really."

And finally Jin nods, nods while seeing him, never mind how fragile it all feels, and Kame presses Jin's hand down on the rim of the tub once more, for emphasis, despite the wrong tingle of handling him.

"Just wait here," he says, and Jin nods again. Okay.

And once he's gotten up he looks at the pants again, at Jin's withdrawn expression, and he thinks he won't take chances here, won't risk a fit of heroics, and picks the pants up without thinking about the damp or their weight or his hands, and takes them out.

More bags. He takes a bin bag this time, takes two bin bags, and then remembers about the wet shirt in the bathroom; but first, he needs to find Jin some pants.

Sweatpants are probably best. He's got a few, no cuffs, short maybe but workable, better than that. Blue like the t-shirt isn't. He grabs the jacket that goes with them too because it's October, and dark outside, and night.

This time Jin meets his eyes straight away.

"Sweatpants," Kame says, "they should work," is glad when Jin just nods and takes them. "I'll be outside, okay?"

Jin holds the pants with both hands, but he's nodding again, and clear-eyed, and Kame almost thanks him for that.

He grabs Jin's shirt as unobtrusively as he can on his way out, and by the time he's bagged it and washed his hands again and remembered to get the jacket of Jin's suit, Jin edges out of the bathroom. Kame stops, keeps his distance.

"I'm done," Jin says.

"Yes. Good."

The pants are too short, just three or four centimeters. The jacket ends high at the waist but Kame's glad Jin has put it on, he knows it's soft and warm. Jin's holding his shoes in one hand.

"Can I please drive you home," Kame says, and his voice fades out high again. "I'll call you a cab, if you don't want— but I'd like to drive you home."

Jin looks surprised, uncertain, and maybe—

"Or somewhere close by," Kame says quickly. "I don't need to know where you live. I can drop you somewhere and you can wait until I'm gone, anywhere is good. Wherever you say."

He doesn't want to put Jin in a taxi, in those clothes, in that state, with some stranger, but he knows the thought is ridiculous after…

"That would be nice." There's a moment when the corners of Jin's mouth lift in a determined kind of fashion, but there's still the vague frown, like he's pondering the options after the fact. "If it's not too much trouble. It's far."

"It isn't, really," Kame says. "Thank you."

And Jin is looking around and the frown doesn't clear up, and Kame bites his lip and stays very calm.

"What is it?"

"I need… my bag is here, somewhere. I need to take it."

"Oh." Kame throws a look over his shoulder. It's fuzzy for him too. But… "Um. Wait." He's faster than Jin now, and Jin doesn't need to wander around among tracks of clean and dirt, and it doesn't take him two steps to spot it beside the dining table because it's black and stands out, and maybe they should just get the fuck out of here.

Jin is following him more slowly, not looking much at the floor, and Kame hands him the bag and gets his own shoes. Then it's his keys and his jacket and Jin is waiting for him by the door, and Kame nods twice and gets a move on, gets—

Jin's suit.

Just one big bag now. He lifts it by the knot. "I'll put it in the trunk," he mumbles. If it were his, he'd dump it, but he can't just dump Jin's suit, and then he thinks he should really— "Unless… I could send it. I mean, get it cleaned…"

"It's okay," Jin says quietly. Kame's starting to wish he'd stop saying that.

But this time he doesn't contradict, he wants them out of here. Jin takes his jacket back but makes no move to put it on. Kame keeps the bag.

"My car is in the garage," he says when they're halfway there, when Kame leads them down the back stairs towards the grey steel door and it feels like he ought to explain that. "Down here. Sorry."

"Yeah," Jin says, from two steps above him.

His garage is half as big as his apartment and also houses junk and various security and utility controls, but the lights come on brightly as soon as they enter, no shadows and creepy corners, thank god. Jin is quiet getting into the car, quiet sinking small into the thick leather. It's not so echoey when they have the doors closed.

"It's all automatic," he explains. "I don't have to get out. I have a remote."

"Yeah."

He reaches for it in the usual place and then the gate rolls up. Starting the car, he thinks of the beer he had, of how he never risks it, but it was an eternity ago and it was only one, and he's got it together now, and the only other choice would be taxis, so it's going to be fine.

He takes them up the ramp, very slowly, and out the main gate. Jin says nothing at all.

Kame won't bother him, but once they're down his lane, there's one thing he has to know. "I'm sorry," he says, "which direction should I go?"

There's barely a pause before Jin answers. "I live in Chidori."

Okay. That means a good long drive on a couple of expressways. Kame won't have to ask directions for a while. "If you'd like music," he says, "just go through the CDs." It's the last thing he wants, some barrier of sound between them now, but Jin might find the empty silence uncomfortable. "Or if you want radio…"

"This is good," Jin says, and leans further back into the seat.

The streetlights sail past them.

Kame concentrates. Careful driving, checking all the mirrors, a decent speed but not so fast it gets risky. Nothing risky.

Jin is looking ahead with his hands in his lap, eyes shutting briefly when they hit brighter lights at the first bridge, a turn-off.

Miles across Tokyo, just lights outside, growing bright and fading as they pass the suburbs.

It's quiet. What sound there is gets sucked up by the car, nothing but some soft clicks when he signals, rarely, because he's not aiming to overtake anyone.

"I don't usually take a cab home," Jin says, after Kame has found the next turn-off and navigated them onto route one headed to Shinagawa.

Kame glances over. There's the small frown again, Jin's eyes on the road.

"I'm not sure I can direct you after we turn off here. Or tell you where to turn off."

"I'll find it," Kame says. "There'll be signs."

He feels Jin nod, but the silence feels thoughtful.

"Is there a train station close by?" Kame asks after a moment, after he's imagined Jin telling him to let him out wherever in Chidori and walking home for an hour. "I have navigation." He nods at the dead little screen, stretches his fingers around the steering wheel. Gives Jin time to think.

"I'd know how to direct you from the Seiyu shopping centre," Jin says. "Will that be on there? It's kind of the main thing around." After a little pause, he adds, "Or there's a library."

"A Seiyu should work," Kame says before he's even thought it through. "It's got gas stations on it and things." He switches on the system and waits while it boots. Jin watches the logo turn, the colours come on.

Kame tries to remember what his last trip was that he needed navigation for. Some campaign thing, probably. But even if it shows that, it's not like he's got anything left to hide from Jin. At least this isn't something to be ashamed of.

"That's pretty useful," Jin says. "I mean, with gas stations even. And things."

Kame doesn't look over now, though he wants to. He's got to watch the road, not do anything stupid. "Yeah," he says after a moment that feels much too long. "It just saves time. Less hassle than with maps."

"Yes."

More road, more silence. "So, the Seiyu," Kame says, because he can't think of anything better. He hopes he's reading this right. "It's convenient?"

"Yeah. It's really close. I buy my stuff there."

Stuff. Jin's stuff.

Like the suit in Kame's trunk. In bags. Two layers.

"You know, t-shirts and things," Jin says, quiet like his thoughts went there, too. He's looking at the hem of the one he's wearing under the open, too-short jacket. "This one's nice, too."

Kame feels queasy again, queasy and like his skin is burning, and Jin smoothes down the shirt and turns his head towards the passenger window, watching lamp posts snap by, or the city, or nothing.

Kame can pay for it. He can pay for all of this, however much, whatever it says on Ootomo's list. And the cleaning, too. He'll add that; make sure it's added somehow.

Jin folds in his knees a bit, still staring out the window. "I don't want to do that again," he says.

"No," Kame says, with clammy hands. "No, let's not."

He waits a moment. Waits to check that Jin's still present, calm. Two checks in, Jin meets his eyes. There's a small awkward smile.

Kame is sure his own doesn't come out much better. He presses his lips together and watches the road.

Jin shifts a little, fussing with the seatbelt as though it's constricting him.

"Are you okay?"

Jin doesn't answer, not at once. "Can I ask…" He's sounding tense, and Kame glances over again but he looks okay, just needs another moment. "Please don't tell Ootomo about this."

Kame stares blankly, then remembers the road. Thank god there's not much traffic. "I… why? You mean you won't?"

"If he knows… he'll think..." His voice is rising, and then nothing.

Kame's mouth goes dry, he's getting sweaty. "But..."

"He'll want to put it in my profile as an option," Jin says from low in the seat. Thin like paper. "I don't do that stuff."

"It's just," Kame says, "you won't… they charge for— I saw the list once."

"I don't care." Jin turns. He looks like he's going to be sick. Sounds it, too. "Please. Don't tell him."

"Okay," Kame says quickly, "I won't tell him, I promise. I'll do what you want."

He means it. He'll promise again, he can still feel Jin panicking…

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me." His own voice is high, and this isn't finished but they both need a moment, Jin needs a moment, and he lets half a suburb pass before the air doesn't feel tight anymore.

"Can I give you the money then?" he asks very calmly. "It can be cash. Ootomo won't know, I swear. The suit, the cleaning, too."

"I don't want money for this," Jin says. "I don't do this." Categorical; and Kame wants to argue but he won't, this doesn't have to make sense.

Jin sighs. "I know it's…" A helpless shrug. "But I don't. Okay?"

"Okay," Kame says. "I get it."

He doesn't get it, but he got _that_. If Jin did this, they wouldn't be here, like this. If Jin did this, he wouldn't be in such a state. Jin doesn't do this.

"I'm sorry," Kame says. He's shocked how new it sounds. How hasn't he said this before?

Jin doesn't stir. "I offered." He sounds calm now. That's good. But what he's saying is absurd.

"And I should never have accepted." He's not looking for a waiver, he's sure. At long last he's sure of something. He blinks fast; there's a draft from the air condition. "I'm really sorry."

He can feel Jin watching him for a thoughtful moment. "I said you could," he says.

Kame wants to argue that it really doesn't matter, would never matter if Jin knew the dark place it came from in Kame's mind. "Still," he says roughly, and then, "I think we're almost at the turn-off."

"Ah."

"Is it okay if I switch on the audio for the navigation?"

"Sure," Jin says.

So Kame presses the on switch and the polite female voice informs him that the next turn-off is theirs and it's about time to get in the correct lane.

They're both silent again; silent as he takes the filter lane off the expressway and it gets darker around them; silent as he drives five below the speed limit along quiet main streets in successive suburbs. At one point, Jin's hand comes up to his face, and Kame thinks he's hiding a yawn.

He's surprised at himself that he's so awake; wide awake, awake like he doesn't think he's been in weeks.

And hungry, his stomach reminds him with an embarrassing yowl. He never had dinner. Jin never had dinner. If Kame hadn't fucked up everything, he could stop them at the nearest restaurant.

"I've got a peanut bar," Jin says into the quiet that follows. "Do you want it?"

Kame tries to relax his shoulders, flexes his fingers around the wheel. He's not… he can't eat Jin's peanut bar. That would just be… "Aren't you hungry?" he tries.

"I've got two," Jin says. "I'm almost home anyway. You have a long drive back."

"Thank you," Kame says, and he's not even thinking about driving and low blood sugar. "I'd like one." It still feels better than turning Jin down on anything. Though the sugar is probably good anyway; who knows when this crazy awakeness will crash.

He wants to protest when Jin starts unwrapping it for him, but Jin's right, he needs his hands. Kame is careful not to touch him when he takes the bar from him with a second, "Thank you."

And more silence, occasionally broken by the voice of his navigation.

"I think I know this bit," Jin says at some point. "It should be less than five minutes now."

He's right; it's one more street down and then a complicated set of turns in a one-way system, and then the shopping centre is in front of them, dark and closed except for a small convenience store on one corner.

"Okay," Jin says, "if you continue driving along here, on the third intersection, I think, you turn right. There's a shrine on the left corner. But you turn right. And then it's straight ahead for a bit."

They find it and he turns, and they drive straight ahead.

"Next convenience store on the right, there'll be a street going off just a few houses later, take that."

Kame does that, too, and follows further directions in Jin's quiet, sometimes cautious tone. He sounds together, like a guy who's just a little tired but knows how to find his way. Kame would find it comforting, if he had any right to.

Finally Jin says, "This will be fine. There's a bus stop coming up on the right, you can just pull in there and let me out."

So he pulls up, and stops. He'd like to reassure himself that this isn't too far for Jin, that he's not planning to get on a _bus_ now, but it'll sound like he's fishing for an address, so he doesn't. "Here we are," he says.

"Yeah. Thank you."

Their seatbelts click, one after the other, but quietly. Jin's hand is on the door, waiting. It feels kind of odd.

"Will you be okay from here?" Kame asks after all, and it comes out half a mumble.

Jin nods quickly. "Yes. It's fine. It's really not far."

Then they both get out, after Kame has slowly snapped his door open. Kame gets the plastic bag from the trunk for Jin.

It's hard to look him in the face when he hands it over, but he does it anyway. "Are you sure you don't want me to—"

"I'm sure," Jin says, his arm with the bag dropping slowly, pulling it back. "It's fine."

"Okay," Kame says, and now he's staring at his hands after all. "Okay, well, then. I hope you get home okay. And…" He shrugs helplessly. "I'm sorry."

"I hope you get home okay, too. Drive carefully," Jin says.

"Yeah," Kame says. "Yeah. I'll do that."

They stand for another awkward moment, then Kame pulls himself together and gets in his car. Gives Jin a final nod as he starts the engine again, and drives off, and doesn't look back.

He drives carefully. Navigation tells him where to go, and he follows. He's awake, attentive, and glad when he's around the first corner and can use the rearview mirror too.

He's calm and careful and Jin gave him a peanut bar, and he takes those turns and the long rows of houses with steady hands and a steady head and a gaping blackness just behind the helpful lights, swallowing his thoughts.

He drives.

No music. The car hardly makes noise at all. Dry streets. No rain, no wind. That's good, for Jin to get home okay.

It splashed. When he moved, it splashed. His foot twitches. His hands are hot, aware, distracting when he's driving.

He doesn't see Jin because he sees the road and the lights and crawling white stripes on the ground. Only his clothes chafe, only his back aches from the soft leather.

But he drives carefully.

Carefully, until those lights in the mirror are burning his eyes, so bright and so close, like they know what he did and he feels everything twist and crumple and then there's a penetrating noise and three cars zipping past him, one after the other, and Kame is left in the dark, in the grey mess of images that's sucking him under.

The meter shows walking speed. The navigation has been talking for two empty streets and he doesn't know where he is.

There's a gas station and he pulls across the road, pulls in, parks beyond the roof and the pumps, where it's dark. Turns the engine off and sits.

His fingers are trembling and suddenly he wants a cigarette. He hasn't wanted one in years. Over by the pumps the lights are unsteady and cheating and he closes his eyes against each passing car but there's never darkness in his head, and it always hurts when he forces them open into brightness.

There are people over there, filling up their cars, buying cigarettes and peanut bars. But he can't go there. He thinks he might burn up when he goes there, when he even opens this car door. He can't breathe.

Can't breathe, and it's all right there, playing out on dark leather under his hands and on the back of his eyelids and in the sharp shadows outside, and right here where Jin was sitting and slowly finding words again and showing him where to go, and now it's all empty.

Now it's just him, and he doesn't know who that is anymore. Someone who'd do this, who thought he'd like it. Who thought it would set things _right_ , could make anything right, and the lights just keep shifting, shifting and spinning and dragging him down into the truth.

He's someone like that. Someone who'd enjoy Jin's fear. Because this wasn't even the first time, just the worst. Maybe. He doesn't know.

He doesn't know how long he sits before he thinks he's okay to start the car again. He doesn't know anything anymore.

~

Happy Birthday, threewalls. Um.


	25. Chapter 25

### Tuesday 28 October

It's not cold. The jacket is fluffy and warm. His hair is almost dry. It's a quiet part of town, familiar, and there's no rush to get home and lock the door behind him.

He waits until Kame has turned the corner, driving confidently like he knows where he's going. It's late, but he'll be okay.

Then he starts walking, ignoring the soft rustle of the plastic bag against his leg. He'll be okay, too. Tomorrow, anyway. He was okay back then, eventually, after worse. This time it was his idea.

He's crazy.

He's crazy but he can deal.

Just one corner and he's in his street. Closer than from the train station. It was nice to get a ride.

There's a bit of a breeze, sneaking into his clothes where they don't quite fit, but it's not bad, not much of a chill. The jacket smells of someone else's detergent. He doesn't want to think about smell but if there's got to be one this is good, nice.

There's the little convenience store with the neon light and the wrinkly grandpa who never seems to sleep, and the first well-lit apartment complex, a little higher than Jin's, and a few single houses with white gravel leading the way to the door, Jin knows them all. And then he's home, and the arch of the doorway doesn't intimidate him either because the light comes on, helpful when he's fishing for his keys, crap, he shouldn't carry around so much in the club bag and he won't get his door open with the breath mints no matter how they rattle, right, there it is, almost easy, easier if he doesn't hold it the wrong way up, and okay, okay, good. He's home now.

He's at the elevator before the door falls shut behind him, and he ignores the sound echoing off the naked concrete.

It's quiet on his floor. The Fujimotos' sprawly plant catches the plastic bag and Jin yanks it away. Almost there.

And then he's inside, and turns the deadbolt, and before he gets held up by anything he goes into the kitchen and opens the washing machine. He's thought it through. He won't have to touch anything. And then he can take it to the drycleaner's because that's what he's supposed to do with these suits, but he needs to... that... he needs to be logical.

So he's logical, and he holds his breath as he undoes the knot, holds the bag inside open-end first, and tips everything out, and it works just as he thought. He's very careful pulling it back and crumpling it up before he pushes it deep in his trash. And that works too. And then he dumps in detergent, selects full wash at forty degrees, and it's on, and he can breathe again.

He didn't touch anything but he washes his hands anyway. And he'll shower next... just as soon as he's called Ootomo. It's time. He can't fall behind schedule.

It's when he tries to anticipate what Ootomo's second question could be that he thinks he ought to write this down.

 _It went fine_ , he writes on the back of an envelope from the bank. _Pretty basic_.

Basic is good.

He stares and thinks and figures out a few turns more and then it's time, really high time.

"How was it?" Ootomo sounds less curious than the last time.

"It went fine. Pretty basic," Jin says. "Short. I'm already home."

"Short? Anything unusual?"

"No. Nothing weird. He was fine. We just didn't talk much."

"Hm. Well, it's his money."

"Yeah."

"So you're okay?"

"I'm fine. A bit tired."

"Yeah. So I'll see you tomorrow then."

Jin stares at the white-on-white flower pattern on his tablecloth, clean, easy to wipe, almost like real fabric if you just look, don't feel.

"Jin?"

Right, he knows that one. It's not hard. "Yeah, sure. See you tomorrow."

They both hang up. Jin folds his phone up and puts it next to the envelope. Talk about overprepared.

 _It was fine. Short._

 _I got off the train twenty minutes ago._

 _We didn't talk much._

 _We just talked a bit about sports, that was all._

 _Just fucking. Nothing weird._

 _Just fucking. The usual. Pretty normal._

 _Just fucking. You know, with foreplay, the usual. He doesn't take long. He was polite. Seemed happy enough._

 _It was fine. I'm tired. I'll just go to sleep._

He forgot about his regular Wednesday guy. He'll have to cancel, only he can't do that now, not on the heels of a Kamenashi date. He's got to be smarter than that.

 _Just fucking. He was fine. He seems to be over that._

 _No idea. I guess he'll call you when he wants to see someone again._

When Jin finally gets up, he turns the envelope over. He's done well, being practical. Now he can shower.

He undresses in the bathroom with the door locked, and when he slowly drops Kame's t-shirt on top of his boxers he has a moment where he thinks maybe he's not so okay after all because he wants to keep it, he wants to... not to wear but... because.

But it needs to go in the next wash and he needs to not be any stupider, and he showers and blowdries his hair, because dry hair is good, is very good, and when he's dressed again and warm in his own clothes, it's better.

It really doesn't compare.

He still wants a cigarette.

He lights one by the window, and after a brief moment where he stares through the glass, he opens it all the way and sits on the window sill. He's not scared here, he thinks as he takes the first deep draught, waits for it to hit. He's okay here. It feels good to know that.

He gives himself half a cigarette before he remembers he has to be smart about whichever illness he's going to claim, too. If he calls in sick tomorrow, it better be with something that won't get Ootomo fretting that Kamenashi-san caught the plague off Jin, and _calling_ him about it.

It's still early, for him, it's... he checks, half past ten. He'd have a proper dinner. Maybe he can have eaten something bad.

He's got no appetite now. He couldn't eat if he'd been starving on the street for weeks. But he's glad Kame ate something and has a sugar boost for the way home.

Kame will be okay, too. Maybe also tomorrow.

He inhales deeply again, breathes out slowly, watches the smoke dissolve into the night.

Blaming the food sounds good, reasonably safe. He can tell Ootomo there was no food on the Kamenashi table, and Jin had some leftovers and he's pretty sure it's not catching, but of course you can't go seeing clients when your digestive system has kept you up all night.

He can't see a client tomorrow.

The cigarette is almost finished, and he stubs it out. He doesn't have to smoke them down to his fingers anymore. He lights another one.

Thursday is his day off. By Friday, he'll be all right. All right for clients. He's not bad now, just... he needs a bit of time. To think. Maybe make sure he's not crazy anymore. That'll help.

Crazy.

He draws in the smoke, feels it go deep. He's got an eye on his street, but there's nobody, no teenagers feeling rebellious on a school night, no drunks looking for trouble. Now and then there's a car.

It shouldn't have gone like that. Not in Kamenashi's apartment, not when Jin could walk away, and Kamenashi's no gang and it's not the _same thing_ , and now his hand is fucking trembling and he takes the next draught quickly.

It was different.

He holds the smoke deep down in his lungs for a moment, holds the thought. He offered. That matters. He may be crazy, but that still matters. It was different. He just forgot for a moment, forgot there was no rope and no mud and no pain, let it take him back and... no.

Not here.

He's safe here. And he was safe already, even when he couldn't think, he didn't have to think.

He's not even sure how he got in the bathroom. Only at some point he was cleaner and he didn't have to huddle in the dark waiting for his stuff to dry. Kame still had to come and get him.

He probably thinks Jin's crazy too.

It's so quiet all around. Quiet and private.

He doesn't sit here much. He doesn't smoke much at home but right now this is good, it's steady.

He can hear the washing machine rumble in the background, and it's comforting. His apartment. He's at home, and he's going to be okay.

There's a man with a small dog now. Jin hears low calls and a friendly whine, softened by the distance. He sits still, watching the dog hop around, the only lively thing in the sleepy neighbourhood.

Kame won't tell Ootomo. He can't, because he promised. And nobody can ever make Jin do that again and he won't have to explain himself.

He feels more confident with that.

It was only because Kame took him by surprise anyway, crying like that.

Soundless, and like he didn't even notice, and that's not a sight Jin ever wants to see again and it _still_ tears at him, and then it makes him feel sick because he can't believe... he was thinking so fast. Or not enough. Or whatever.

But he's okay now, and he'll be better tomorrow, and when he taps the ash off his third cigarette he thinks he doesn't need another, he can get it together, and he's no longer shaky. So it feels good when he puts it out. He can do that.

When he's closed the window and stashed away his cigarettes, he gets out his blankets and props up his pillow against the arm of the couch, and he was right, the navy blue looks nice in here.

He doesn't fold out the bed. He doesn't think he'll sleep, and he doesn't want to lie in the dark with his thoughts running wild. He's not quite ready to get out of his clothes, either. But the TV should do the trick, let him shut off for a bit, until he can think better.

He feels weirdly stable, in spite of everything.

Maybe that was Kame too. Kame and bathrooms, and the car, and... stuff.

He sets an alarm so he calls Ootomo in time to deal with the Karube date he'll be missing, warn the guy or get a replacement. He feels good about that too, organised. Then he flicks the sound off on the TV, because the little cartoon creature's voice makes the room seem hectic, and he snuggles in under his own sheets. The bedside lamp is a warm sort of light, and he's fine just watching bright peaceful colours on the screen, letting his mind blank out on no plot and no nothing.

 

### Wednesday 29 October

Wednesday, he stays in.

He turns the phone off after talking to Ootomo, figuring he could be sleeping off whatever officially kept him up all night. Now nobody can come to him with any club business. Ootomo didn't sound suspicious either; impatient with the hassle maybe, but when Jin is properly awake and not getting hung up on weird shit, he can actually remember Ootomo's not annoyed with him all the time.

So that's all good.

He has breakfast, his body finally remembering about food and missed dinners. Then he spends a while tidying up, shuffling mail around without really reading it. He's got time. He doesn't have to rush himself with anything. Doesn't have to think about anything.

When he's made a second cup of tea, he gets his guitar. It's what he usually does when he has a day off, too. Maybe he can finish the piece he started last week, when he was trying to figure out the chords to another Bon Jovi song and discovered the start of something else.

He finds it again and tries a few variations, warming up. It feels good to focus, to wake up properly as his mind sharpens on getting things to sound right.

He fell asleep here on the couch after all, last night, and he didn't have bad dreams. He dreamed about Naoki, about the old apartment, something to do with the windows and phone calls home. Nothing bad, just a little grey and complex and now it's fuzzy already.

He starts making notes, adjusting a bit that sounds kind of predictable. Plays out what could be the bridge, and it sounds good, interesting, like it could really work. Only when he hums along it feels off, like he's faking, so he stops, his fingers getting slower with the thoughts coming back, stealing in under the notes that shiver out, then pause.

He wonders what Kame is doing today. If he's got work or his wife to distract him, or if he's still quiet and worried like last night.

He starts the melody over, makes sure not to hurry along the notes. He hopes... no, he's not sure what he hopes.

He thinks he'd like to explain, but then he's not sure he's got an explanation. Kame already knows he doesn't do this stuff, and maybe Jin's better off not bringing up that boyfriend, and maybe Jin was just an idiot to think that something like that would help, anyway.

He holds still when the chord rings out, balancing the thought that all of that may have been pointless. Kame didn't seem any happier. Kame was shaken up too.

But he still knew what to do; at least someone did. Got Jin home. Gave him a t-shirt.

He doesn't even know why that still makes him feel weird and woolly, and the next few notes that come out when he makes his fingers move are a total mess, like he's some kid who doesn't know how a guitar works.

Just a t-shirt. It's drying on the clothesline above the bathtub together with the tracksuit.

He takes a deep breath and stops himself from clutching at the guitar, stops thoughts of wetness and damp and his brain spiralling out of control, gets the song moving again. Thinks about being dry, being in a car, the quiet around them.

But his fingers are still awkward and confused, and so he stops, because he doesn't need this, he's not normally such a messy player. Not normally crazy either, only suddenly it was _there_ and out of his mouth and god knows what he was even expecting or what sort of help he thought he'd be, only he didn't expect falling down blackness and holding on to Gucci t-shirts, that's for sure.

He puts the guitar away and starts on dishes, which is useful and constructive and also kind of easy, and as he's rinsing and drying and watching housewives come home with their shopping, he thinks he maybe crazy but he's not only crazy, and it _wasn't_ just there from out of nowhere, there were big fat arrows pointing from all the other stuff and with the boyfriend in the mix and for showing guy what he's worth...

Doesn't get better than that. Kame liked showing him fine before.

And maybe that's a good reminder. Worth keeping in mind that the guy can be an asshole, too, and if Jin's off wondering whether he helped him by letting him piss on him, he should maybe watch what he's wondering a bit more.

The dried-off pots hit the cupboard shelf with a clatter and a bang, and then it's quiet again.

 

### Thursday 30 October

Jin sings along under his breath to B'z as he folds the duvet together in that particular way it needs to go inside the box, then strips the sheet off the bed and starts to fold that up, too. The lunchtime sun is just starting to peek into his window and he thinks maybe he should dust again. Maybe not now, but sometime soon.

He slept properly last night, in his bed and in the dark. He's kind of pleased with that. But taking yesterday off was a good move. He's still not really in the mood to let anyone get near him.

He'll have to take that suit to the laundry. It's clean and dry, but not crisply perfect like suits should be and… anyway. He still has to do that.

The next song is one the cute couple at the Open Mic night sometimes try to cover. They're getting there, though she sings better than he does.

Jin's not sure about going tonight. It's not like clients, but it's still lots of people, and… he's just not sure of himself yet. Not sure of what he's thinking, or feeling, and he doesn't want to surprise himself weirdly. Least of all there.

His doorbell chimes, soft but dissonant, kicking him right out of the melody.

Huh. He didn't order anything. And he doesn't think he's got eggs or flour or whatever, if it's a neighbour. It reminds him he planned to go shopping with Tomo, with the car, but it's probably not Tomo either.

He tidies the couch with a last nudge and goes to check the spyhole.

It's Yuuya.

In jeans and a brown bomber jacket, a thin beige sweater underneath. He's frowning, and lifting his hand, and before he can ring again, Jin opens the door.

Yuuya breaks into a wide smile and bows quickly. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Tegoshi Yuuya. Can I interest you in some double glazing?"

"Uh," Jin says wittily.

"Or soup?" He lifts the square thing wrapped in a plastic bag he's holding. "It just needs heating up."

"I've got a cooker," Jin says, and then finally, "Sorry, come in." He can be surprised with the door closed.

Yuuya toes off his sneakers, careful to balance his... soup. "That's my name," he says when he straightens. "Tegoshi. I had to get yours so I'd know which door." He shrugs and smiles again, but this time it's shy.

"Yeah, sure," Jin says. "I mean, I don't mind. What— how did you get here?"

"By train," Yuuya says. "Well, Ootomo, you know. He said you were sick and I told him I wanted to bring you some food. Ask if you need help with shopping." Yuuya looks more thoughtful than he sounds. "You didn't answer your phone."

Jin takes the soup. It seems like the thing to do. "Sorry," he says again. "I switched it off yesterday, after talking to Ootomo." And that was good, too, only... "I forgot to put it back on this morning," he mumbles, feeling unreasonably guilty because that's actually the truth.

Yuuya sneaks a glance around. "I was hoping to catch you before you had lunch," he says hopefully. Then his eyes come to rest on Jin's face. "And that you weren't still too sick to eat anything."

Jin wants to cringe a little, but he manages to smile. "I'm feeling fine now. What kind of soup is it?"

"Just miso soup," Yuuya says. "In case you were really..." He bites his lip. "In case you were off solids. But it's proper soup, not from a pack. Takahisa taught me a recipe his mom used to make."

"You _made_ it?" Jin puts it down carefully on his kitchen counter. "Like, this morning?"

"I got home early last night, so I was up earlier than normal." Yuuya smiles, following a bit, but still moving cautiously.

"Ah. I mean, good. Thanks. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Yuuya sticks his hands in his pockets and seems content to wait for whatever Jin wants to do in the kitchen. Jin's not sure what he wanted to do in the kitchen.

"I didn't even have breakfast yet," he admits. He makes a general sort of gesture. "And I'd show you around, but this is kind of it."

"It's nice," Yuuya says with an appreciative look at Jin's minimal design choices. "Mine's in Nishi-Kasai. It's got two rooms, but when the bed's out in one, I can barely turn around."

"I'm thinking of moving out," Jin says, not that he'd planned to confess that. "Into something... well. Same size, maybe, but it doesn't have to be so classy, I could save some money. I just need to get organized."

Yuuya nods. "Would be nice to have a private place. One Ootomo doesn't have a spare key for."

They grin at each other.

"Do you want some tea?" Jin asks. It seems appropriate.

"Do you have coffee?" Yuuya asks.

Or that.

Jin nods and gets busy seeing to their caffeine needs and when Yuuya stays where he is, he invites him to sit on the pull-out sofa. Ootomo never sat down when he explained the place. Even Tomo didn't have time to sit. Yuuya's only his second real guest and now there's soup.

"So you're all better now?" Yuuya says when Jin has joined him at the other end of the couch with a cup of tea.

"I'm really fine," Jin says. "It was one of those things." He shrugs, and can't help making a face because he feels uncomfortable lying to Yuuya. "You know, felt more serious than it was. Just, with clients..." He hopes that's enough, just drinks his tea.

Yuuya nods vaguely. He takes his coffee black; it's probably only surprising because sitting there in his jeans and Spongebob socks he looks like a high schooler who should be on hot chocolate.

"I was just wondering..." Yuuya looks up from his cup now. "Because you were with Kamenashi on Tuesday."

Crap.

"I was wondering if that had something to do with it."

"No," Jin says. "It didn't. He didn't do anything. I ate... I ate at home, and it must have been off. Or too fatty. Pizza." Crap.

Yuuya just looks at him thoughtfully. Like he doesn't believe a word Jin is saying. "Just," he says quietly. "I've seen him. I know what he gets like, remember?"

"Yeah, but he didn't," Jin says, "we... he was tired and... it was short. Just fucking. The usual. He didn't take long."

"Hm," Yuuya says, with a sip of coffee, when he looks back up, he's still thinking. "The usual, huh?"

Yuuya wouldn't tell Ootomo, if Jin asked. If Jin told him.

"It really wasn't like that," Jin says, and he's calm now, reassuring. And it's true. He offered. "He's kind of more relaxed now. It's different." And then he finds something else that's true. "I wouldn't have gone if it wasn't different now, honest."

"That's good," Yuuya says. "Because I'd worry. And I think even Ootomo wants you to be careful. He gave me your address more quickly than I expected."

"I..." But Jin doesn't really know what to say. It feels weird to think about Yuuya and Ootomo talking about him, worrying, and somehow it feels safe and good, and then he feels a bit guilty that he's keeping secrets now. "Thanks. It's really nice you came by." Which isn't an answer to Yuuya's concern, but whatever.

"You're welcome. Just..." Yuuya makes a face, bites his lip, and then he seems to reach a decision. "You know you don't have to pretend with me or anything, right? Because I'm younger and stuff? Because it's not like I haven't, you know, been around. I've had stuff happen."

Jin stares at his hands, blinks away the sharp flicker of images, Yuuya wet and smeared in the dark somewhere, nowhere to go and no idea how to get cleaned up and Kamenashi over him with the piss everywhere and nothing to stop them, no getting away from the next thing, the next horrible thing—

"Yeah, I know," Jin says, when he's remembered the question, when he's stopped those thoughts, because there's no point to them, and anyway he's much better now. "I know. But it wasn't like that."

Just jumbled and harrowing and then still, so still. Even in his head. Just them muddling on, closed up together in the darkness.

Yuuya nods again, slowly. "He just seems to get really intense with you."

"Yeah, but…" At least he gets that now. Not an excuse, and Yuuya's sitting right here and he saw... Jin doesn't think it's an excuse. But at least he gets it. And this time, he offered, it's not like Yuuya thinks. "We had a date two weeks ago, and that was different already," he says. Different. Not scary. "I'm really okay."

Yuuya smiles a little, and Jin wonders if it's because he believes him or because Jin's not upset he's ignoring seniority etiquette.

"I'll heat up the soup now? I'm getting hungry."

"Sure," Yuuya says.

Jin gets busy. It wasn't a lie either, he could do with some food. But it gives him some privacy, too, to think about the date two weeks ago and just how different it was. He never gave it much thought, except to find the Kamenashi attempt at normal kind of pathetic.

But then he was focused on staying safe, and on Tuesday Kame was crying and there was the boyfriend thing, and sudden more or maybe less successful attempts to be helpful.

He bends down to the drawer under the cooker, to get out the smallest of the shiny pans that came with the apartment. The noise hides the deep breath he takes.

Maybe he'd have understood more then, if he'd asked; if he hadn't laughed. And if he hadn't needed to be so on his fucking guard from all those other dates.

"You think he'll book you again, then?" Yuuya asks behind him. "Like, does he want to turn this into a regular thing?"

"No idea," Jin says. "I guess he'll call—" Wait. This is Yuuya, and Jin is together enough now to give a real answer. Not that he knows what that is. "I really don't know," he says, more slowly, and turns around to meet Yuuya's thoughtful frown. What do you do when you've lost control of yourself like that? Would you ever want to see the guy again who was there for it, never mind book a date? "I guess I'll find out when he calls Ootomo," he says at last. Kame may well think he should have stayed away from the start.

No way to tell. Maybe he can let the embarrassment be Kame's problem. He stirs the soup.

"You'll take it if he does?"

"Depends," Jin says, shrugs. It seems a halfway smart answer even if he's not sure how he means it. Kind of doesn't want to know how he means it.

"A rest's a lot of money," Yuuya says slowly.

Jin shrugs again. It's a good argument.

"But a long time to spend with somebody who..." Yuuya seems to be choosing his words carefully. "...can get like that," he says in the end. "You didn't like it."

"I know," Jin says. "But I don't think he'll do that again. He seems to be over that."

"You _really_ didn't like it," Yuuya says quietly, and Jin knows what he's saying.

"I'm not afraid of him now," he says. He ponders that over a slow circle in the soup, and then he turns to Yuuya to add, "And if he ever tried anything, I'd walk," because Yuuya probably cares more about that than Jin's infallible Kamenashi threat assessment. "Ootomo said I could."

Yuuya has put his coffee down and is watching Jin with his hands in his lap. "I know, but sometimes—" Then he shakes his head as if to clear it. "You're probably right. And it's good money," he repeats, casting his eyes around the apartment with resigned understanding.

"Really," Jin says, because he can tell Yuuya is trying to find an angle from which this makes sense, wishes Yuuya didn't sound so much like he was trying to convince himself, "he might not even want me again."

"Just... don't trust him, okay? I'd take the money, too," Yuuya says grudgingly. "But I'd be careful."

Jin stirs. The soup's getting there, and it smells delicious. "I will be," he says, and then, "So how was yesterday?"

"Hmm. You didn't miss much. It was really slow, even for a Wednesday."

"Yeah? You get anything?"

"Miwa, and just a relaxation. Though he insisted on dinner beforehand anyway. That was weird."

Weird. Jin thought it was weird too, the dinner at Kame's place. But maybe it was just normal, more like what he does with Tatsuya. Even Kame said it wasn't his usual style, the crazy stuff… Maybe Tatsuya is better for him.

"He talked forever about his falling stocks. It was so boring. And depressing."

Kame talked about his cat. And his warehouse. And flooded cellars.

"Do you do that?" Jin asks, getting out two bowls. "Stocks and stuff?"

"Hmmm, I don't know yet. I should start to think about things, and I got a lot of advice from Koyama-sensei, but I haven't started doing anything about it."

"Yeah, me neither."

"It's kind of weird for a history professor to know so much about investment and taxes and stuff," Yuuya says. "But, well, it seems to work for him."

"Yeah, otherwise I don't think he could afford, you know," Jin says, shrugging.

"Us?"

"Yeah."

"I suppose."

"You're also having some of this, right?" Jin asks, gesturing at the two bowls. Yuuya has drawn his legs up and is now giving him a cute grin.

"If I can."

"You brought plenty."

He pours soup for both of them when it's hot enough, and then they're next to each other again with their soup bowls, and Jin thinks he really didn't expect this when he woke up; didn't expect anybody who wasn't Ootomo to give a thought to his Kamenashi date, but it's nice. It's really nice.

"This is good," Jin says after almost burning his tongue. "Do you cook a lot?"

"Only sometimes. When I have a good reason." Yuuya grins, then wriggles into a proper crosslegged seat while balancing his soup. He looks happy after tasting it.

Jin doesn't cook much for himself. It's odd to think that the closest he gets to homemade is the stuff Maeda makes for him some nights, and Jin offers blow jobs for that.

He didn't want to think that. He didn't want to think of Yuuya's cock in his mouth, or of the two of them kissing, and he knows Kamenashi made them do that, he's not an idiot.

He keeps his eyes down, on the soup. That Yuuya brought him. Because they're okay, and Yuuya worries for him. He smiles around his spoon at the thought; one of those really stupid smiles he's just as glad to hide in eating.

"This is actually a really nice neighbourhood," Yuuya says after a moment. "Are you planning on staying roundabout here?"

"Yeah, I thought so," Jin says. With Tomo and the bar. Good things that are happening for him besides the job, besides Ootomo, besides no longer having to be scared by some client he doesn't understand. "It's cheaper than more central would be, too. You know, for later."

"Yeah," Yuuya says vaguely. "Good to have something for later. You don't want to start from scratch."

"No."

Yuuya has another look around and they randomly grin at each other.

They finish their soup companionably, and then Yuuya checks his watch. "I should get going. I've got an early one today."

"Thank you again," Jin says as they get up. "That really... I mean, I was really surprised." In a good way, but he's sure his big smile is leaving no doubt about that. "It's the first soup anybody's brought me."

Yuuya's smile is triumphant. "Then I'm really glad I did." He looks even cuter when he's got his backpack on, like he might be going on a school trip. "Bye now. See you tomorrow?"

"Yes," Jin says. "I'll be in."

When he's closed the door behind Yuuya, he takes the bowls to the sink and puts them next to his cup from this morning. His cell is lying on the work surface and he turns it on, wondering how many messages from Ootomo he missed.

Two voicemails, the first from Yuuya. "Hi, it's me again, sorry. If you need anything, can you let me know? I know you had a stressful date before you ate whatever you ate, and, well... just call me back, okay?" The second from Ootomo, around eight last night. He should have remembered to turn the cell back on by then. "Jin-san, I have Yuuya-san asking for your address and wanted to check that it's okay to pass it on."

He flips to e-mail. The first there is from Yuuya, too, a cheerful, "Hi, Jaejoong tells me he took Karube for you because you're not feeling well. Just wondering if you're looking after yourself properly."

The second one is from Tomo. "Konbachiwa!" it reads, and then there's a smiley face. "Found the Clapton CD, will bring it tonight. If you hate it I'll have to kill you and dump you at sea, so wear something the fish can digest." There are three peace signs and a sparkly star thing, and Jin grins.

Looks like he's going to the bar tonight after all.


	26. Chapter 26

### Wednesday 05 November

It's getting dark outside.

They have a soft light on the towel cabinet just for evenings, for baths, and Kame is glad for the fading edges. The water is hot but not steaming; he's just taking a bath, not lulling himself into sleepiness, and the shifts of grey and soft yellow make everything look a little smaller, a little milder. It feels safe and it feels private, and he thinks he's doing well leaving the world alone.

Midori is in the kitchen, and now and then he hears the odd note or beat from the radio. Yesterday it was a week. He's been working the days, home in the evenings. Home all weekend. He's been sleeping. He's been looking at himself in the mirror and he's been thinking of Jin, and he's thought of that night without shutting it down. Often enough now.

Often enough to sniff out any little lie he might try to tell himself.

He thought about calling at the club, just to see if Jin came in, if Jin's okay. But Ootomo would ask why, and Kame made a promise that nothing will get back to him. He doesn't get to break that just to make himself feel better.

Feel better.

He was still stunned at first, wondering how on earth Jin could think something like _that_ would make him feel better. To even suggest it. But he's had time to think and he knows he drew that picture pretty clearly; it still makes his face burn but now he just sits and closes his eyes and waits for his skin to calm down again, lets it pass.

He knows people do that, together; for fun, because it works for them. He knows that wasn't for fun.

He knows Jin hated it. He knew Jin would, somehow. He liked that. He doesn't know why Jin let him do it, doesn't know why Jin wanted to help.

He shifts his legs around in the water and feels nothing but soft pressure, giving, coming back, tickling his shoulderblades where they touch the waterline.

He knows he'll go back to the club. Tanaka has been asking, and Kame has told himself to stay away before, and it never worked out for the better. So he'll go back. He'll just give himself some space. Give Jin some space. Wait if… he wonders if it'll feel less wrong.

He listens for the blips of radio he catches, but it's not enough to make out a song. He's not thinking of Souji so much now. Souji's still there, more present than he's been in years, but Kame thinks of himself more, the last few weeks and the things he did to Jin, _all_ the things right to the end and the drive and how embarrassed…

Embarrassed.

The things.

He pissed on a guy. On Jin. Like some… he doesn't know what kind of person would do that, to someone who hates it. The kind of person he thought he wasn't. It was always just sex. Even with money and management involved, he just had sex. Sex most normal people like, not… like that. Not like some…

But that's just the way it is. He did that, and now he feels hot in lukewarm water and when he draws his arm around his knees and closes his eyes, he can still see Jin, trying to be brave over a fucking pair of trousers, and yeah, he's doing well leaving the world alone.

He rushes his hair back, sticky and damp as it is, and then drops his hands under the water again, waits while the surface goes quiet.

After a while, he thinks the sounds of the house change, and he's not startled when there's a soft knock, and a pause, and then the door opens quietly.

"Not drowned yet?" Midori asks, peering around the corner, wisps of fog sneaking out the door from the cooler draft.

"My mother used to do that," Kame says, smiling a little, feeling his chest go tight.

"I know. She told me." Midori closes the door behind her. She's in a t-shirt now, an old one with an abstract flower print that's faded from too many washes. "Said you got really grumpy with her." Midori's imitation scowl makes him laugh.

"Yes, I did." He'd found it terribly annoying.

"You're not grumpy now, are you?"

"No."

"Helps that I generally trust you not to drown yourself in your own bathtub."

"Helps that I'm not fourteen."

"Probably." When she hops up to sit on the washing machine, he sees she's barefoot. The water's not that hot but her hair is curling up at the ends anyway. "I'm making dinner," she says. "Think you'll be out in half an hour?"

"Yes, no problem." He's been soaking for a while, and there's no aim to his thoughts any more, nothing that gets better or easier with however long he tries to get them in order. He's not hungry, but he likes the idea of dinner, a proper dinner. He doesn't know why, when he's still lying to her.

"Good." She wriggles her toes and for a moment it's quiet. It should be uncomfortable; it usually is when she catches him thinking, when he's remembering things she can't know about.

"What are we having?" he asks.

"Katsudon. I hope." She smiles at him, and they're both thinking the same. She's not a bad cook, but theirs isn't the kind of life where it's become second nature to her. There have been incidents.

"Sounds good."

" _Sounds_ good."

He laughs again, with his throat still constricted. He doesn't deserve any of this.

Midori's feet are doing the dangle of nefarious planning. "So," she starts. "Actually, I wanted to ask you about your schedule."

"What about it?" Nothing bad or suspicious, he can tell as much. Might be better if there were. Better if she didn't trust him.

"You have the campaign wrap-up event at the weekend, right?" she says. "At the elementary school?"

"Yes." It'll be three hours live and a lot of fundraising the rest of the day and into the night, a special broadcast filmed in some school out in Yokohama. A lot of music this time, so not as gruelling in terms of work as some of the other events. "They won't know what hit them once the tech starts rolling in."

"It'll be good publicity."

"Yeah, I know," he says. "So… what about it?"

"Can you take me?" She's stopped the dangling, and is biting back a grin.

"Why? Do you like Morning Musume now?"

"Are they playing? I don't care. I want to say hi to Fujikage-san. See if she remembers me." Excitement looks cute on her.

"She remembers you. She asks about you every time we're on the same event." He's told her, too. He wouldn't want her to think otherwise.

"I know, I know, I'd just like to talk to her before this thing is over and I lose my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make use of my husband's good connections."

"No problem, I'm sure it can be arranged."

"If they give you trouble, you could sneak me in in the trunk of the car."

For some reason that makes him feel cold, pull his knees under the water. "That sounds kind of creepy." But she laughs and it's good, and he adds, "And might get me arrested for fangirl smuggling."

"I'm not a fangirl," Midori protests with dramatically raised eyebrows. "I'm a serious adult who wants to have a well-behaved chat with a former colleague. The last time I saw her we weren't even married yet. And I had terrible hair."

When it takes him a moment to answer, she makes a triumphant face, like he's totally busted. "See, it was!"

"I'm sure mine was worse," he says. "You know, the blond thing," and it feels so nice when she grins, his head hurts again; but he's sweaty and in the tub and if his face looks a bit funny it can be because of that.

"I'd forgotten when that was," she admits. "But it was pretty spectacular."

"Someone should burn the evidence."

"Too late," she says mercilessly. "Famous now."

Famous. He makes himself smile, because it's what he wanted and Midori knows it's what he wanted. Maybe he should stop it if can turn him into this.

Midori wriggles her toes again. She paints them red, but more often in the winter than in the summer. She insists it makes much sense and cheers her up.

"You've lost weight," she observes then, with a gentle glance over his naked body that should probably upset him more.

He doesn't move, lets her look if she wants to; confirm. "I haven't been sleeping so well." He noticed the weight loss in some of his clothes, but he didn't give it much thought. It's just how it goes for him when he's under stress. Losing his mind must count as stress.

"Yeah, I noticed."

That should scare him too. He should probably try to find some excuse. He wonders if she caught it all, the nights when he was hiding away in the house and the tossing and turning when he didn't. If she did, she must have quite the picture. "I'm sorry if I woke you," he says, and hopes she won't worry if his voice sounds odd.

"No worries. Hey, you know me, I sleep like the dead." She shrugs one-sided. "I just noticed. But you seem better now."

She knows him really well. Sometimes he thinks she should have seen it all by now, and sometimes that thought keeps him awake at night, too. He sinks a little deeper, leans his head on the edge of the tub. "Yes, I think I am."

That wasn't why. Not like that, not like Jin meant it. It feels more like he woke up from something; woke up from thinking he was right, always within his rights, from thinking all those things he did to Jin were perfectly reasonable. It's better. It doesn't feel like it, but it's better.

Like Midori said. Sitting on the washing machine, looking thoughtful, and Kame waits, does nothing, just smiles again after a moment because he doesn't deserve the concern he can still see lurking.

"You've had a lot on your plate," she says. "I hope it's not my fault for not making you proper bento. The eating thing, I mean."

"No," he says, and he wants to say it more, that it's really not her fault, none of it, the eating and the sleeping and the strangeness, she should never think that. But she doesn't, she was kidding. It's never worked like that for them. "I think I'm going to turn down that script," he says instead. "The romantic comedy."

"Ah, that." She frowns. "Yes… don't blame you. I looked it over, I think you can do better."

"My agent would like it," he says, though he's made up his mind.

"Your agent doesn't have to act it for three months," Midori says simply.

"Yeah." And he feels oddly glad now. He wouldn't mind if she stayed, even if she can see those weeks on him, even if she notices things.

"I think I want to do the samurai film. I think that could be interesting."

Midori nods slowly and intently. "Could be pretty. Nice clothes."

"You just like the swords."

"As long as it doesn't get gory, yeah, sure, I like the swords." She tilts her head with pointed thoughtfulness and checks him out again. "Yes, I think you should do that."

"Yeah, I think I will," he says, and then it goes quiet.

Midori takes a deep breath and lets it out with a determined _hm_. Then she slides to her feet, landing with a little tap. "And I should probably start on the meat. Or I might as well give up and order in." She nods to herself very battlefield-march-style.

"Hey," he stops her when she puts her hand on the door, and he feels stupid, really stupid, because she stops and she waits, and it's up to him now but he doesn't know what comes after that. He doesn't know. He's got no plan for this. "I'm really sorry."

"What for?"

"Just… lately." Lately. Everything. Jin. The nights and the days. "I was in a really strange mood." It comes out small, compressed, final. But she's better off that way, too. They both are. He knows that. He waits, naked in the tub with the water cooling around him and now it feels long that she looks at him, long and…

She shrugs, with just a brief hesitation. "It wasn't so bad," she says. "I doubt anyone else would have noticed."

"Yeah," he says, on a tight breath, "still," and she nods with a quirky grin. "It'll be better now."

She looks him over again, just for a moment. "Okay," she says. She's puzzled; puzzled but not worried. "I'm glad to hear it. Half an hour?"

Kame leans back again, and now he sinks under all the way to his neck. "Yeah, half an hour."

"You can drain the water, I think I'll maybe shower."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, and she's smiling as she leaves.

He closes his eyes again because his face hurts, his eyes hurt. She's always liked him. Maybe he's still allowed to think that because he wasn't always like this, he didn't always…

He wonders how long. How long is right for giving people space after you treated them like that.

Wonders if Jin is nervous about when and how he'll show up again, wonders if at least he can think Jin wasn't afraid of him at the end, might not be afraid now, or if Jin was just dazed and didn't know any better.

He needs to apologize. For real, and for everything this time. Or if Jin doesn't want to hear anything, at least be around and show there won't be stuff like that anymore, and that… that he's not like that. He's not really like that. And then leave Jin alone.

He feels tired when he lifts himself up, wraps himself in a towel.

He hasn't slept at the apartment since. He's glad he's here. Glad there's dinner. He can smell something cooking when he steps out of the bathroom, and hear the radio, and when he goes to put on some clothes he leaves the doors open, for all the little noises and the scent to find him.

 

### Friday 14 November

Kame isn't around; not for a week, then two, then more. He's busy, Jin knows. Jin also knows it'll be hard to figure out how to pick things up from where he left them. He's not waiting.

He knows Kame is okay because he's constantly on TV. First there is a burst of advertising for the film that was just finished, interview shots and little bits of film footage that don't say much, and it's on a lot during ad breaks on the entertainment channels.

The second week in, there's the triumphant wind-up of the bullying campaign, with some giant party at a school and a final big fundraiser at night, full of people in ball gowns and pretty suits who must be very famous with whatever they do. It's on the news hourly over the weekend, inescapable like rain in June.

At home, Jin doesn't watch those channels. But he catches Kame again on one of the giant TV screens in Shibuya which he passes after his Karube assignments; some sort of game show where he's on a team with a grumpy old guy and that pregnant woman from before. Jin's not going to stand in the middle of the street gawking up at the screen along with half a dozen girls, so all he has time to decide is that Kame seems to be getting more sleep. Or is wearing more make-up, who knows.

Next time is in the break room the following Friday, some entertainment program interviewing him about the fact that he's going to play a samurai in his next movie.

"Hm," Tatsuya says, "traditional clothes. That'll look good."

Junno laughs. "It'll look very cute. But maybe he can _grow into_ the role," he says, and Shota suggests heels.

Jin agrees silently that it'll look good, and he knows _just_ the expression that'll make Kamenashi's height totally irrelevant. He wonders what Kame will say if he gets asked about the samurai and their warrior buddies, or if that's not something he thought about before taking the role.

Then Junno flips to some billiard tournament, and if there was a question here and Kame had an answer, Jin's not going to find out. Maybe Jin will ask him next time they see each other. If they do. If Kame will come back to the club, if he'll even want to go near Jin.

At any rate, he's okay. And Jin's okay, too, there's nothing left to worry about.

"Seen Kamenashi around lately?" he says to Tatsuya.

Tatsuya shakes his head. "I thought you were the go-to guy right now."

Jin shrugs. "Thought he might have got the bargain deals out of his system." Or something like that.

Jin's not waiting, but he's wondering.

He's got a freshly washed jogging outfit at home that's two sizes too small for him. At some point, he'll need to decide what to do with it. But not yet.

It's time to go back to the lounge. They've been briefed by Ootomo that Tsukada is due around nine with two foreign politicians as guests, and they're supposed to offer variety while being careful, the soft sell. With foreigners, you never quite know whether they have come to watch the exotic pursuits much as they would visit a temple or a tea house, or whether they have waited all their lives to fuck a Japanese guy, or even just a guy.

They've timed it well. Jin's just got a glass of water at the bar and the others are barely done choosing strategic seats when the door opens and things get noisy – so noisy that some of the regulars look up with a frown, and Jin grins to himself because he's almost certain he saw Handa tut-tutting before directing his attentions back at Satoshi.

When he looks at the door again, Jin sees Tsukada shedding his coat, and making apologetic shushing gestures at the man who's with him, who in turn hunches up a little and makes apologetic 'sorry I was noisy' gestures back. Hunches because he's more than a head taller than Tsukada and even so looks imposing rather than contrite. He's black, mid-forties maybe though Jin finds that hard to judge, and even when he's trying to be quiet his voice carries in a deep baritone. He's speaking English, Jin's almost sure. He wonders what happened to the second guy.

"American," Danny says next to him, passing by on his way to the back. "I'm going to vanish until he's settled, I'd probably cramp his style."

Jin follows him a little. "But you're the one who can talk to him!"

"He can talk to Americans at home; I don't think he's here to conduct a study of expat whores. And if he's here to fuck, he's closeted. Closeted American politicians don't like to run into Americans when they go wherever they find guys to fuck."

"Right," Jin says. "Um. Right."

Danny flashes him a grin. "You go talk to him. You can do it."

Jin looks towards the seating group Tsukada has chosen. Tatsuya hasn't joined it, and Jin sees Jun regarding it for a moment, then turning away. Yuuya is there, and so are Shota and Tadayoshi, and Junnosuke is taking a step in their direction after a moment's hesitation. Koichi is sloping off towards the TV screen, and Jin catches up with him on his way over to Tsukada's group. "Hey, you not coming?"

"Are you kidding? Just look at the guy."

Jin looks at the guy. He's trying to pick up a wasabi nut with chopsticks that look tiny in his hands, laughing deeply when it jumps out and across the table at Yuuya. For a moment Jin has to think of Yokoyama.

A big, black, American version of Yokoyama. That works. Jin can talk to this guy.

Tsukada doesn't look very excited when Jin joins them, but Jin doesn't need Tsukada to be excited about him. "Good evening," he says in English to the other man, and hopes nervously he's not going to trip over the second part either. "I'm Jin. Pleased to meet you."

"Hi," the man's voice rumbles. "Hi Jin!" And right away there's a shift and a gesture inviting Jin to sit. "You speak English?" He says the last part in Japanese, and looks very proud with himself for succeeding.

"Jin speaks very good English," Yuuya tells him, but since he tells him in Japanese, the man's expectations are fortunately not raised too high.

"I speak it a bit," Jin says. "Not very good. But I like it." Keep it simple. He can do simple phrases.

"That's great," the man says, "that's just great, fancy meeting somebody like that here. All those politicians, they can't even do that, they all need somebody to help them out. Well, look at me, not like my Japanese is great. I can just about beg somebody to speak English to me. Well, or ask for beer."

Jin's kind of followed that, enough to have a general idea. "One beer please?" he tries in English.

"Hey, you want one? I'll buy you one."

Jin's all ready to say he didn't mean it like that, but after all, this is his job and he'd better not forget it. "A beer is nice."

Jin deals with the order, and then he turns back to their conversation. "What should I call you?"

The man thinks a moment, then he winks. "Smith," he says with a grin. "John Smith, okay?"

Jin smiles. "Smith-san. In Japan, we have Yamada Tarou. It's the same thing."

That leads to slightly chaotic clarifications whether they're really talking about the same thing, but once that's settled, Smith gives Jin a nudge. "So I can be Yamada?"

"Sure," Jin says. "Yamada-san."

"Ha!" Smith booms, and turns to poke Tsukada, who jumps a little before finishing his champagne order and turning towards them. "Ha-jee-mey-mash-te. Yamada desu."

At Tsukada's polite and extremely puzzled bow, he nudges Jin again and bursts into laughter.

As the evening moves on, the lounge fills up more, and for a while, Jin points out some of the people Smith-Yamada might find interesting, like KitaKen, whose face Smith-Yamada actually knows from international sports broadcasts, and the old enka singer whom he's never heard of. He didn't know Junnosuke is a famous porn star in Japan, either, and Jin likes the way he's trying not to stare too curiously. Tanaka arrives, and for the next ten minutes Jin feels like he's holding his breath, but he isn't joined by anyone but a few escorts; this is the point when Shota leaves them after finishing the drink Yamada-Smith bought him, wishing them a pleasant evening.

They establish it's Yamada-Smith's first time in Japan, and between Jin and some unembarrassed gesturing to make up for missing vocabulary they give him the usual tourist recommendations.

Yamada has already seen some of the more famous landmarks courtesy of some pharmaceutical companies, who threw him what first sounds like drug parties and showed him around Tokyo. "Tokyo is nicer than Washington," he says. "I like your tall buildings, they're amazing." He'll see the inside of the Diet building when he meets with the Minister of Health and more Diet representatives, but they run out of vocabulary there and Yamada's not dying to talk about work anyway.

Tadayoshi and Junnosuke make their excuses just a little later, and finally Yuuya leaves after a quick exchange of glances, and with a little wave at Jin alone. If Yamada-Smith wants to fuck anyone today, it'll probably be Jin. If not, well, Jin's having fun for a change and he's doing well enough these days that a Friday without a big engagement doesn't need to freak him out. Besides, Ootomo will be happy that he kept Tsukada's guest happy.

On the other hand, when Yamada says, "In an American place, I'd probably be starting to feel you up now," Jin's very proud of himself for coming up with something along the lines of international constants, comprehensibly enough that Yamada moves in closer and then his large dark hand is on Jin's thigh.

Jin moves under it, just enough to indicate he's comfortable, and then he says, "So you go to American places?"

"Well, no," Yamada says. "Can't do that in my position. Discretion doesn't work like it works here, and if I get found out, that's my career gone. Pfffft," he adds with a snip of his fingers.

"I think it's not so bad here with politics," Jin hazards. "It's not so important. Only if you are a type who speaks a lot against gay people, then it would be bad if they find you out."

"In the States, if you want to be in my line of work, you better be married with a couple kids and a dog." Yamada frowns regretfully, and Jin has a feeling he shouldn't ask if that's what Yamada has done. "I'm not even with the conservative bunch but in my State, I'd be totally out on my ear. My party would replace me so fast, I wouldn't have time to clear my desk."

"What do you do for sex?"

Yamada makes a meaningful face along with the universal hand gesture. "Mostly," he says. "Or I go abroad where nobody knows me." He leans closer to Jin, his hand moving not-entirely-by-accident onto Jin's dick. "I managed to get myself on some international investigation committees," he says in a hush-hush voice.

"I hope our country compares well," Jin says with a smile, once he's sorted out the long words in that. The back of his mind registers vaguely that he seems to be learning how to flirt. In English.

Yamada rubs a little in the right place, and Jin finds himself responding, a warm little tingle. "I'm delighted by it so far." When Jin looks, he can see a noticeable bulge even in Yamada's loose-fitting slacks, too.

Jin knows the stupid clichés just like anybody else, but now he's wondering for the first time if they're true. He subtly checks out Yamada's build, and the way he moves when he effortlessly downs half a glass of beer, and he starts to wonder what they'll look like together. He hasn't wondered that about a client before.

They take a look around. Tsukada is watching them, which Jin dislikes but which probably only means he wants to be sure his guest has a good time, and is ready to help out with the next steps. He's probably regretting that interpreters aren't admitted to the premises.

Anyway, Jin can handle it. "Would you like to get a room?" he says. "To investigate more?"

"Yeah," Yamada says at once. "Investigation. It's what I do. Let's go investigate."

He stands up when Jin does and seems to grow upwards forever, until Jin's feeling a little stunted and silly.

Jin wonders how much he's had explained, and by whom. But it doesn't matter, they can be flexible, and Yamada's not the type to clam up in embarrassment when he doesn't know something either. Jin only makes sure that Yamada isn't looking for any special services, and then they head for the concierge desk, past the seats where Tanaka and Shota finished up their drinks a short while ago and weren't joined by anybody else. Jin asks for whatever sort of room Tsukada prearranged, for one hour with possible extension.

It's a superior, room three, and Jin thinks nothing of it while they take the elevator up and Jin manages to explain what's on which floor without knowing the words for management or dormitory, thinks nothing until he's unlocked it and for a sinking moment as they step inside he remembers the last time he was in here, with Kamenashi, first with Yuuya and then alone, and…

He wonders what Kame is thinking now, about that night; about the last night; about them. About the club and whether he'll be back. Whether he's worried that Jin has talked after all.

And this isn't the time for that. Yamada is standing where Kame did then, waiting for Jin to move, do something, take the initiative. And he's a nice client who speaks English and wants to investigate, and Jin doesn't want to disappoint him.

He steps in close, his hands on Yamada's hips, and stands on tiptoe to brush his lips over the skin of Yamada's neck and down to his collar. He squirms a bit where Yamada's erection can feel him. "How do you like it best?"

"Naked," Yamada mutters against him, and Jin can hear the grin in his words.

He steps back a little. "Naked is good," he agrees, and a few subtle tries establish that Yamada is pleased to have Jin undress him.

Jin is intrigued by the chest hair, which is more than he's used to though he knows it's considered normal for Westerners and nobody minds, not even their wives. Yamada has a few silver curls in it, not many, and he's in pretty good shape for a politician.

Yamada is happy to return the favour, stripping Jin of his tie and shirt, running warm hands across and down Jin's chest with the good kind of concentration and then they end up on the bed, continue there. Yamada gives Jin a light push onto his back and wraps his hand around Jin's cock as soon as it becomes available. "I'd like to suck you," he says, still stretched out alongside Jin and pulling gently, watching them curiously. "I like the taste. And then I want to fuck you. Does that work for you?"

He tightens his pull and Jin bucks up into it, the warm tingle from before getting hotter. "That'll work very well."


	27. Chapter 27

### Friday 21 November

Tanaka has put a blue streak in his hair. Kame stares at it whenever he doesn't know what to say next.

It's the usual Friday bustle at the club. There are people all around who'd like to sit with Tanaka, but he's waved them off so far, with a little nod at Shota which Shota knew to interpret. Kame feels guilty but grateful. He has a tiny sip of his juice and thinks it can't be as dull as it tastes. He tries a smile.

They're at a small table, two armchairs, and a two-seater which is still empty. Tanaka gives him a thoughtful look over his Montrachet and Kame's stomach flips a little but that's normal by now, par for the course this evening, so he just sits and waits for it to pass.

"I like the samurai thing," Tanaka says. "Hope they give you a real sword."

"As long as they teach me not to chop off anyone's arm by accident," Kame says doubtfully. "Or my own." But samurai boot camp isn't where his mind is right now.

"Bad publicity," Tanaka nods. "And insurance would skyrocket."

Kame tries his best to answer Tanaka's grin. "Yes, probably."

"So are they training you up a bit?"

Kame thinks over the answer for a second, he doesn't want to sound too…

God. Tanaka wouldn't keep calling him if he didn't like hanging out with him. Which probably includes Kame's conversation. Preferably in full sentences. "They're talking about sending me on a program," he says, "but I hope that's just about how not to look like an idiot while waving a painted stick around."

"Oh?" There's a purposeful gleam in Tanaka's eye. "When's that? Can anybody come?"

Kame finds himself laughing, and it feels odd. "Not until December. I'm getting a bit of a break, now that we've wrapped up the school film."

Kame spent an hour at the wrap party; long enough to be polite, long enough to say friendly goodbyes to everybody who wanted to hear them.

He parted with Morioka on polite terms and with few words. There'd been no real chance to talk in private, not without making an effort. And it probably would have been a bad idea, anyway.

Tanaka squints at him. "A break, in your language, means that instead of filming all day _and_ doing promotions, interviews, photoshoots and PR campaigns, you just do even _more_ promotions, interviews, photoshoots and PR campaigns."

Kame flushes a little, which is silly. But he says, "That's finished, too. The campaign."

Midori had been really happy to speak to Fujikage-san, and Kame had found the girl bands pleasantly distracting.

"You're practically unemployed."

Kame leans back, rolls his shoulders a bit. "Yeah, like a holiday," he says, succeeding in making Tanaka grin again. "Speaking of which, you're the one who's been abroad."

"Just a week," Tanaka shrugs. "Barely worth the jet lag. And anyway, that wasn't a holiday, that was serious business."

"Let me see," Kame says slowly. "Big lunches with producers during the day, and a different rap gig every night." He hopes they're really called rap gigs. He dares a smile. "It's a hard life at Jokerface Records."

His smile disappears when he notices Yuuya standing up and leaving a seating group over on their right. He'd been obscured by a rather large old guest before. Now Kame suddenly wishes Tanaka had already gathered his usual crowd around him and those seats nearby weren't empty.

As if Yuuya would come near him. But seeing the boy avoiding him won't make him feel good, either.

Par for the course.

"…and they let me be DJ that one night in the only rap club in Little Japan," Tanaka says with unabashed pride, and Kame could kick himself for getting lost in his own business again.

Anyway, Yuuya is at the bar and hasn't even noticed him.

Tanaka tells him more about some of the rap people he met; with whom he hit it off well and who was sceptical of Japanese rap, and this time Kame pays proper attention and doesn't miss the little details.

Jin isn't here. Maybe he has a client. Maybe he has the day off. Surely he's not afraid to go to work, three weeks later.

"What did he say?" Kame asks. He's glad he's here with Tanaka. He wouldn't know what to do with himself at all if it weren't for him.

"Said he can't rhyme sushi." Tanaka rolls his eyes.

"Do you want to… Would you like to expand?" Somehow he doesn't want to ask another work question. But Tanaka's not married, and they don't like to talk about their lies anyway.

He's not even sure why he's thinking that.

Tanaka shrugs. "I doubt there's a market. And it's tricky when you don't speak the language."

"Yeah, I suppose." Kame never liked English much, with its weird sounds his mouth doesn't know how to produce. He thinks he's probably picked up more bad French by now than he learned bad English in school.

But Tanaka has given the question some thought and has things to say on the subject. Kame is listening. He knows he's strange company tonight, and he doesn't want Tanaka to regret asking him to come.

He's more antsy watching other groups form and dissolve than usual. Oddly attuned to the clients, old for the most part, surrounding themselves with young attractive men who are pleased by the money. The flirting everywhere, the acting.

He dusts his hands over his pants. He made sure to dress well. Nothing scruffy, he doesn't want anybody to cut him film star slack. He did his hair, though it's getting too long and hard to handle unless he catches it at the right moment. Today wasn't one of those.

He hasn't seen Tatsuya. Somehow that's a relief.

Tanaka's drink is almost finished, and maybe Kame should have something that looks less pathetic than a glass of juice. On the other hand, maybe he should just get used to looking pathetic.

His shoulders are all stiff no matter how he sits, even with his back flat against the leather. But he's not waiting to relax, he knows better. He can start to think about relaxing when he's managed to spend an evening without acting like a crazy person, dragging people off or pushing them into things…

He exhales slowly. He's not doing that anymore. Now he only has to prove it; to himself to begin with.

He starts by having something intelligent to say on the bias of home markets. At least Tanaka has stopped examining him as if he's waiting for Kame to giggle or scream or cry.

They order another round, and while they wait for their glasses, Tanaka lets his eyes wander.

"Anyone you'd like to ask over?" he asks, discreetly but without embarrassment. It's usually Tanaka making the invitations, and Kame never has much to suggest. He just occasionally asks Tatsuya or Takuya-san, because they're not part of Tanaka's usual crowd.

The thought of going upstairs with anybody makes him feel unsettled and cold. He isn't planning to; he's known that since the first time he had the nerve to think of his next club visit, but it's weird to feel it this physically. Maybe that's his body telling him to back the fuck off when his head is screwed up. A bit late, all things considered. Really fucking late.

"Not really," he says, and from Tanaka's expression he can guess he didn't hit smooth quite like he meant to. "I really just came for drinks," he adds in a quiet voice.

Tanaka raises his partly-shaved eyebrows.

"I can't just come and drink with you?" He means it lightly, but somehow he's not hitting light either.

"Orange juice," Tanaka points out, but then his face gets that nice look again that makes him look not at all like a rapper. "Sure, you can come drink orange juice with me."

"Do ask people," Kame rallies before Tanaka can think too much. "I don't mind. I'll enjoy the company."

Tanaka gives him a last appraising look. At least he's stopped asking if everything is really all right. "I'm sure Shota is looking forward to speaking to us," he says.

He turns to the left, where Shota and the Korean man are casually hanging out, keeping the fact that they're essentially waiting fairly low key. At Tanaka's inviting gesture, Shota comes bounding over, touching the blue hair with a curious smile. When he bends down to Tanaka's ear, Kame can just about catch something like 'glad you're back'.

The Korean bows politely to Kame and of course, he'd have been staying around for _him_. It's not like Kame advertised the fact that he doesn't consider himself safe for company these days. His name is Jaejoong, and he is very attractive, tall with dark hair and very dark eyes… and now Kame remembers considering him in the online catalogue once. He smiles and offers a small bow back; there has to be a way to indicate 'not tonight' without making it feel like an out-of-hand rejection, and he's going to work at it. He remembers feeling surer of himself and fluent in all the little signs, not too long ago.

"I brought you something," Tanaka says to Shota, who breaks into a grin despite Tanaka's modest tone.

"From your trip?" he slinks into the corner of the two-seater that's close to Tanaka's armchair. The lingering look he gives him suggests Tanaka really could have picked a more approachable seat. But the night is young.

"Yeah. Just a little thing. I'll show you later, if that's all right?"

"That is very all right."

A slow start then. Maybe Tanaka really isn't in any hurry, or maybe is being considerate for Kame's sake. Kame crosses his legs the other way and tries to look not so self-conscious when he picks up his orange juice.

Jaejoong, sitting beside Shota, is watching him with a subtle edge of interest. But then he turns to Tanaka. "You travelled, if I may ask?"

So Kame gets to hear half the story Tanaka just told him again, not that that's a problem. Nothing that spares him from having to come up with proper small talk himself is a problem tonight. But he tries to take part in the conversation and make relevant comments here and there, just so he doesn't spoil the mood.

Tanaka is in the middle of doing an impression of JFK airport security when Kame lets his gaze wander again, and now it's Takuya-san he sees at the bar, relaxed and stylish, and his heart does a little skip.

And it's silly, it's not like Takuya can see into his mind and know what he's been doing, what sort of client he's turned into. Silly, because Kame doesn't even need an excuse why he's not up to asking for his time because Takuya would not be in the lounge if he didn't have an appointment here—

—and by the time Takuya turns his way and sees him, he's got himself together enough to manage a bow and a smile, and look like there's nothing wrong with him at all. He's almost sure.

Takuya looks like he's really, honestly pleased to see him, swirling his longdrink glass around in a quirky greeting, which doesn't look odd on him at all, only charming. Kame's hands feel clammy, and he gives another nod, hoping there won't be a question on Takuya's face. When there isn't, he looks away as if released, feels the relief trickle in.

Tanaka has segued into another story, as if he knows Kame isn't up to bringing his own anecdotes, and Kame shoots him a grateful smile. He nods a few times at the descriptions of kosher Chinese food before his glance skitters away again over familiar glitter and the people in their fine clothes, mindless chatter, and then it all freezes around him because Jin is back, Jin is here now.

The room narrows, moves in to almost nothing. Nothing but an endless second, Jin still and breathless.

Oh god, Kame shouldn't have come. Maybe he's just proving it; what an asshole he is. Coming here, ever again. Because Jin is still, and breathless, over there, in a different suit and with his eyes dark; so dark.

Jin blinks, and bows. Hello. Jin is saying hello.

Kame rises, because at least he's not slow on top of everything, and he doesn't care who sees, he can return that greeting and do it properly.

He makes it longer, makes it more; makes it clear that he means it even if he knows it'll look strange for a client, and when he raises his head again, Jin seems to hesitate, and after a moment gives an uncertain nod.

And that's it, Kame should sit down now. Not draw attention to things Jin doesn't want him to draw attention to. Jin ducks his head and reacts to someone saying something and… okay. He can sit down, and Jin can know he'll just stay here and drink his orange juice and try not to be an asshole.

Kame pretends not to notice that everyone at the table, not just Tanaka, is giving him intrigued looks. Jaejoong and Shota will stop soon enough; it's not polite. And if his skin prickles as if it's feeling the surprise of Takuya-san and whoever else may have been paying attention, it'll pass. He takes another sip of orange juice and asks whether anybody in their group would like some snacks, and settles back to witness the ensuing mock fight between Shota and Tanaka about the benefits and drawbacks of vegetarianism.

The escort who spoke to Jin has asked him to a table where two almost identically dressed clients are already sitting with the tall porn star, Junnosuke. Perhaps those men are new and being introduced to a few different types. Jin is easily the most beautiful of them. His hair is perhaps a little shorter than it was, and the way it frames his face is flawless, makes him look soft and a little untouchable all at once.

He starts when Jin looks across, catches him looking. He braces himself for annoyance or disgust or fear, but Jin merely holds his eyes for a brief moment, then turns back to the men he is talking to.

Kame has to stop acting like an obsessed freak.

He wants to apologize to Jin; he has to. But he also has to leave him alone, and for the first time he wonders, a little hysterically, if he should maybe have sent him a letter.

He returns his attention to the conversation; shrugs faintly, an all-purpose apology, when Tanaka gives him a wondering look again. They're talking about fish now, and Kame manages to add something about buying local, manages not to think of where Jin is sitting.

The waiter brings them the food. While Kame asks Jaejoong a possibly stupid question about Korean cooking, he finally manages to slip in that he only came by to have a few drinks with Tanaka, and confirm his meaning with a look. He's irrationally nervous, until Jaejoong makes an easy-going comment about Tanaka's company and adds a phrase about future times; he's taking it well.

Jin is still at that table, and he's smiling; like everyone here. Hard to tell what it means when he can only look furtively and shouldn't look at all.

"Dancing is good for the body, too," Shota is saying, to them all, but he gives Tanaka's body special consideration. "It's good exercise."

"Breakdance is good," Tanaka agrees.

"I like tango," Jaejoong says. "They all think it is weird."

"Just because you use us as your guinea pigs," Shota says with no real protest.

Jaejoong grins. "But you picked it up very quickly." When he turns back to Kame, the grin has mellowed into a smile. "Though I admit that dancing with my colleagues is not my first choice."

"I'm afraid I'm more into baseball," Kame says, with a smile of his own. Future times. He shies away from the thought. Future times, when he'll just let this run its course; some attractive man who likes him well enough, likes his money and thinks he's a good deal. A companionable evening and then a night upstairs. He did that for years. It was good.

He reaches for his orange juice. Jaejoong asks him which team he supports. Kame gives a diplomatic answer, leans more casually, smiles again. His whole body feels numb.

But he can't look again now, he's _not_ going to be some creepy stalker who can't leave Jin alone…

Jin is standing up. Kame's caught the movement, Jin is standing up… making his goodbyes. And when he starts to walk he's looking straight at Kame.

Kame blinks at his orange juice. Caught again. Maybe he should leave. Really leave, now.

"I hope you won't hold the Beijing Olympics against me," Jaejoong says with a charming smile, and Kame says, "Of course not," and then it's Jin's voice, "Good evening," right next to them.

Oh.

The glass rattles when Kame sets it down hurriedly to stand again, maybe Jin wants… he doesn't know what Jin wants but he shouldn't be standing while Kame—

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," Jin says. He looks quite calm, even when he's looking at Kame. "I saw you on TV. I was glad you made it home okay. It's been a while since we've seen you here."

"I keep complaining, too," Tanaka says from the side, sounding pleased and vindicated.

Kame ignores him, ignores… everything but Jin who is standing there saying… what is Jin saying? Surely he wasn't worried that Kame—

"Well, it's been a busy time," Jin says easily to Tanaka, and okay, he wouldn't have been worried, he knew, so what _is_ he saying?

"Hey, do you want to sit down?" Tanaka seems pleased with the second chance to hook Kame up tonight. "We can move—"

"Thank you," Jin says, and his eyes and smile are on Kame, not Tanaka. "I just came by to say hello. And see how you were." There's a final little nod.

"Can we talk?" Kame blurts out. "I mean, just briefly, somewhere…" He looks around quickly, it's got to be public, very public, but they need to be alone. "Just over there? It won't take long."

Jin… Kame doesn't know if that's surprise on his face. Something subtle and restrained.

"I won't keep you long," he repeats, and when he's finally standing he feels like a bully again because Jin can hardly turn away from a waiting guest— or maybe he can, maybe that would be _good_. Only it wouldn't be because Kame has to—

"Of course," Jin says, stepping back so Kame can get through the space between Jaejoong and his own armchair.

Kame feels his heart pound with every step he takes after Jin. It's Friday and the place is crowded everywhere, but eventually they end up at the bar, out of earshot of the bartender, and there's a silent moment while a waiter loads his tray, too close for… this.

Kame looks around uncertainly. He doesn't want this to be something he's saying in passing, as if they're chatting while waiting for drinks.

"Is it okay… just for a moment?" He gestures, and when Jin's look sweeps over the high bar chairs, he adds hurriedly, "We can stand, too."

Jin slides into a chair. "Sitting works for me."

The bartender sees them right away and starts to move over, but Jin waves him off. Kame takes a breath.

Jin speaks first. "I didn't want to put you on the spot," he says, again with that calm. "It just seemed like you might be uncertain. About the club." He shrugs faintly, almost slowly. "And there's no need to be. You should come here when you want to. I just wanted you to know that." His shoulders rise again, that awkward little movement Kame knows by now.

Right. What… So. That's good, Jin is— Jin isn't scared, that's very good, that's excellent. Jin wanted to talk to him, Kame didn't corner him, all good.

All good.

 _Uncertain_.

Kame bites his lips on a nervous laugh. It won't do to laugh. "Yeah, you're… Yeah. Thank you." He manages to meet Jin's eyes again. "That's kind of more than… thanks. I was kind of. Well." As one is when one has been what Kame's been. "Look," he says.

Still the calm. It's like nothing here worries him. He's studying Kame and it's unsettling, but he's only waiting for Kame to say what he dragged them here for.

So Kame says it again. "Look. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I've got to apologize for… not just for that."

And suddenly there's a glimmer of surprise, and it's frightening, because now it feels like he can fuck up all over again.

"I know you… offered," he says quickly, and his mouth is dry, but he remembers Jin's insistence. "I still shouldn't— I still did it because… It was really vile of me."

Jin says nothing this time, but he's taking a breath, a slow one. Not looking away.

"And all that stuff before. That I did to you. I was really, _really_ out of line and… I'm so sorry." His voice almost hurts. It's not relief; it's just right. "I think I went kind of crazy."

Jin's mouth— that's a smile now. A reluctant one. "I thought you were kind of crazy, too."

Kame laughs, a weird, painful little sound, but Jin's smile smoothes out. "Yeah. You probably had a better perspective there than I did. God, I am so sorry." He breathes twice more, gets his voice to calm down. "I'd apologize properly," he says then, bluntly. He wants to; he's burning to. "But I didn't tell Ootomo and… I don't want you getting questions you don't want to get. " And he's looking for a clue, for—

"Yeah," Jin says, and now he looks a bit embarrassed. "That's okay. I… get it, it's fine. Thank you."

""Thank _you_." Kame swallows hard and tries to stop the thoughts from rushing in. "I don't even know…" All the things he did to Jin. He can't get it out of his head and he can't stop wondering why… "I don't know why you did that," he says in a small voice, "why you let me."

And maybe that was bad, because Jin's face is clouding over, those eyes are looking troubled.

"Sorry," Kame says quickly, pulling his hands into his lap even though he did nothing with them. "It's not— I shouldn't— I won't talk about it again, I promise."

Jin's shaking his head. "It's okay." He shrugs, but it looks very considered. "I don't really… well." When he meets Kame's eyes, it's just as considered. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course I thought…" He shrugs again. "I didn't think that would happen. Like that."

Not like that. Not with Jin so scared he couldn't move. Kame blinks away, stares at the polished metal base of Jin's barstool. "I'm really sorry."

"That's not… yeah. I get it," Jin says. Kame doesn't, not really; and it's no excuse, even if Jin thought he could handle it. But maybe he can leave Jin alone now.

"I saw you on TV," Jin says again. "So I knew you were okay. I just thought, you seemed kind of shaky too. Afterwards." He looks a bit sheepish, his chair turning just so. Now he's the one looking at the floor.

"It was okay," Kame says quickly, his face still burning. And then he wonders why he's trying to evade; why isn't he telling Jin the truth? Jin shouldn't think he got it wrong then. "I had to stop for… you know," he amends. "To get my head together. On the way back. But then I was…" He shrugs, breathes out. It feels better with that honesty between them. "Okay."

Jin nods, not much, but like he understands. "That's good." He seems to think, and then his head comes up and he's looking at Kame again. "Good," he repeats, and it sounds conclusive, like something got settled and he can get up now; and Kame's not going to stop him, Kame's just going to sit here and feel grateful he got this chance at all.

And there is another waiter, almost predictably, but this one's faster, thank god, because there's one last thing he has to make clear before Jin goes away. "I also wanted you to know…" He has to square his shoulders and Jin has gone calm again, calm and attentive. "That's not going to happen again. I pressured you into all those… I won't try to get dates with you again. I promise."

Jin nods slowly. "Yes," he says. "I got that. It's okay."

"Okay."

Hard to tell if Jin really believes him, when he looks reserved and guarded now. But maybe it's better if Jin's still wary, maybe better if two of them are keeping an eye on him.

"So what are you going to do now?" Jin asks, taking Kame by surprise. "I mean, I saw your film wrapped up, and the other thing. And…" Jin's chair shifts again. "Tatsuya isn't in, by the way. I thought… well. He's out, though."

Kame's not sure he followed that, but his brain feels slow and a little numb. He's sitting here with Jin and Jin is talking to him and listening to him, and he got to apologize. No wonder he's missing turns, with all that relief. He tries a smile, hopes it doesn't look wrong. "I only came for a drink tonight," he says. It's really useful, too; he's not sure he's up to thinking proper thoughts about sleeping with escorts right now.

"Orange juice," Jin says, with a slow nod.

"Yeah," Kame says. "Wild night out." He smiles when Jin does, and suddenly it seems like maybe it wouldn't be so wrong; maybe Jin won't misunderstand.

"Jin," he starts, and then somehow he's uncertain again, a disorienting rush and he's nervous. And Jin's talking to him like one talks to a client and… "Jin-san," he starts over, and that feels better, even when Jin blinks in surprise. "I was just wondering if… if you'd like to join us over there. For orange juice. Or something else." Something really, really expensive, if Jin wants. "Something you'd like. Just to talk."

And now Jin looks cautious – so cautious it hurts. But that's normal, logical, only to be expected, and what was Kame thinking, anyway?

The pause stretches, so long that Kame is just about to apologize again and do what he should have done, leave Jin _alone_ at last… when Jin smiles.

"I'd like to," he says. "And… you don't need to get more formal now."

Kame even gets that, but it's not about formal. "I just…"

But Jin's taken a step, because Kame invited him to sit and he said yes and that's _great_ , and maybe now's not the time to have an endless conversation about names.

"Jin's fine," Jin says, and that's that.

He waits for Kame to take the lead this time. That's even good, because Kame can try to look a bit more competent, and it also means he gets a chance to realize he doesn't want Jin to feel crowded if he's coming to sit with them.

It doesn't mean he's actually clever enough to think of an introduction until they're there, and Tanaka is giving them both an intrigued look.

"I've asked Jin to join us," he says – mumbles, because there's the obvious implication and it sounds presumptuous even if he doesn't mean it like that.

But Tanaka welcomes Jin, and the escorts are smiling, and that's all good.

"Please," Kame says and gestures at the empty armchair. "Please have a seat." He snatches up his orange juice.

Jin regards him for a still moment. Then he nods, sitting down slowly, still watching Kame… who feels thoroughly relieved, and only then realizes that he's standing in the middle of a seating group with nowhere to sit.

"What do you say," Tanaka says to Shota in a stage whisper, "got room for me there?"

He stands up to Shota's happy invitation, and then there's some of shuffling of legs and rescuing of glasses, giving Kame time to feel less stupid, and when everything has settled down again, Tanaka is half beside, half underneath Shota on the couch, with Shota's hand on his thigh making sure there's really no space wasted between them, Jaejoong is looking amused in his shrinking corner, and Jin is examining everybody's glasses with a small smile.

"Funny how that works out," Tanaka says, winking at Kame in his former seat and wriggling his arm behind Shota's back.

"Um," Kame says, and to Jin, "would you like something to drink?"

"Beer, please," Jin says. "If that's all right."

"Of course." Beer's cool. Beer's totally cool.

"So you two know each other?" Tanaka asks just as Kame is signalling the waiter.

Kame lets his arm sink with sudden awkwardness. Maybe something else he should have thought about. Asked Jin about. "We've, uh—"

"Kamenashi-san and I have had a few dates," Jin says. That calm is back, and he's nodding subtly at Tanaka.

Okay. Good that one of them has a working brain and sticks with what's bound to be common knowledge anyway. Keep it simple.

"I see," Tanaka says, sounding like he's also seeing fun in Kame's immediate future; but he doesn't prod any further when Kame just shakes his head.

The waiter comes and Kame orders beer for Jin and another rum and coke for Shota; Jaejoong declines, pointing to his half-filled wineglass.

"So, Jin," Tanaka says. There's a hint of hesitation that says he's testing if he remembered the name right, and it hits Kame for the first time that he never wondered if Tanaka and Jin ever…

But clearly not; and it makes sense, he's not Tanaka's type, but oh, that could have been uncomfortable. For everybody.

"Nice to get to know you a little better," Tanaka is saying. "We haven't had much chance to talk."

"It hasn't worked out that way, no," Jin agrees. "I think I was introduced to you by Danny in my second week. I think your work is very interesting."

"You like rap?"

"I like all kinds of music," Jin says, to Tanaka this time.

Just like he likes all kinds of food, Kame thinks. The beer's a definite, though. And the waiter's here, and Kame is glad he's got something he can handle, directing the right glasses to the right people while Shota says he sometimes makes up his own lyrics listening to rap because he can only understand half of it. It sends Tanaka off on a mock-lecture, and Jin takes his beer and nods at Kame, and Kame tries not to clutch his orange juice too helplessly when he smiles back. Jin takes a sip and tunes in to rap rules for beginners. Good. All good.

Forgetting the lyrics. Tanaka is telling a story, and Kame almost finds it charming, which is perplexing because people forgetting their lines is never funny. Jin looks relaxed. And then Tanaka has proudly brought out a colourful card proclaiming him to be the 'Kappa rappa', and is disconcerted at having to explain to Jaejoong what a Kappa even is.

"You have to be very lucky to see one," he finishes his short description, and there's protest from Shota.

"Unlucky, more like. They try to drown you." He makes a face. "Or worse."

"Only if you don't know how to treat them. You just need a cucumber---"

"I always have one of those on me," Jin says with a straight face.

"Well, you should," Tanaka insists, and writhes when Shota attempts to 'look for his cucumber'. "Not here, children, not here. Kame is afraid of Kappa."

"I'm not," Kame protests, not sure if he's blushing.

"You refused to go on my Kappa hunt with me!"

"I was busy." He feels very lame all of a sudden. He'd forgotten he was supposed to be part of the conversation.

"Hmm, you were afraid of something." Koki is grinning widely, and Kame feels close to thumping him. "Was it dragons?"

"Heights," he says. At least he knows about the blushing now. "I used to be afraid of heights."

"Oh, that's right, you got all cured in the circus!"

"Circus?" Jin asks quietly.

"I— got that drama part about the hospital owner's son who wants to be a famous trapeze artist." He grimaces as he shrugs; it did take some getting used to and he doesn't want it to sound like the thinks people should just get over themselves.

"I used to be afraid of flying," Koki says, sounding understanding. "Now I'm more afraid of airport security. Jin, what about you, you afraid of anything?"

"I, uh." Jin fiddles with his glass and seems just as unprepared for the question as Kame was. "I don't know," he says vaguely, takes a little too long. "I don't like bugs much."

"Cockroaches," Jaejoong shudders. "They're the worst. You step on them in the night and they _crunch_."

Kame ignores Shota's cockroach-related squeals, watches Jin stare into his lap as shy as ever. He wonders if the bug thing is true and Jin was reluctant to give it away with Kame here, or if he needed time to make it up.

In the end Jaejoong claims they're going to give him nightmares with their bug theories, and says a friendly goodbye. Tanaka and Shota are in a discussion about whether ushi-oni is really a spider in the first place, and Kame is almost surprised when Jin mentions something that sounds like a manga in cautious support of the spider side. He cites something else that doesn't sound familiar at all, but Kame's okay not getting it; he's distracted anyway, and a little fascinated to watch Jin relax and just be part of a conversation.

Shota and Jin disagree about whether ushi-oni would be beaten by Spiderman, and Tanaka speculates about whether what Spiderman does can really be called flying.

"Probably not if you asked Superman," Jin hazards. "Well, Batman…" Then he thinks, or waits for some signal from Tanaka, or both. He looks different when he concentrates. "He'd probably say it makes no difference."

Kame wonders if Jin really likes American superheroes, and how much, when he has an opinion like that. Wonders what he knows about Jin at all, when he never bothered to pay attention to what Jin might like and not like besides—

Jin squeezing his eyes shut, straining away from Kame between his legs, Jin falling apart at Kame's touch, tight tight heat and the thrill of watching and pushing on and knowing he's _got_ him now—

Kame puts his glass down, tries to pull back quietly, sink into the leather. He feels jittery, nauseous, and Jin is smiling at a comment about butlers and insisting— _insisting,_ because he isn't afraid, and he's beautiful when he's intent like that and when he's smiling, and there's a smile even for Kame, and Kame all but snatches his glass back and concentrates hard on the colour orange because he doesn't know what else to do with how that makes him feel.

He works on getting it under control again. By the time he's stopped feeling weak, they've somehow ended up talking about the problems of staying incognito as a rap star. Shota's just commenting that bat suits are so last year.

"What do you really do when you don't want to be recognized, Tanaka-san?" Jin asks, and Tanaka grins.

"I sew my own cape and mask. There's a phone booth in Shibuya with my name on it."

"Where do you carry it, under your clothes?" Shota enquires, and gives a gap in Tanaka's black button-down shirt just the tiniest lift.

"That's top secret," Tanaka says, but his voice has dropped, and he's not stopping Shota's fingers dipping past the fabric.

"Glad I get to find out later," Shota says, and Tanaka says something more general about sunglasses that invites Kame and Jin back into the conversation.

Jin says sunglasses must be annoying indoors, and then he turns to Kame. "How do you deal with it, Kamenashi-san? It must be pretty difficult when everybody knows who you are."

Kame has another moment of staring, even though it's not a difficult question. Even though Jin is looking at him with nothing but friendly interest. "I… do the sunglasses thing, too. Scarves, hats. The whole mummy look." For some reason he's flushing again. "And I avoid places where I think it'll be a problem," he adds. "If I can."

Jin nods. "It must be nicer when you're abroad," he says. "Or is it the same?"

"I don't think anyone's ever recognized me abroad," Kame manages. "I'm not really that internationally famous."

Jin smiles again; it seems almost encouraging. "At least you know you can still get a break from it all somewhere."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's good. If I want."

"Speaking of… breaks." When Kame blinks over to Tanaka, Tanaka is scratching his ear. "Or, um, resting in general." Next to him, Shota gives a little wriggle of anticipation. "If I can leave you to your fate, Kame…"

Kame is slow again, unease spreading low in his gut, but he should have seen it coming, shouldn't be all helpless and surprised. He nods, "Sure," takes care he does sound sure of himself, and tells himself Jin can leave, can get some… do some work. Jin knows that.

"And hey," Tanaka says when he rolls to his feet, Shota following suit and immediately clinging to his side. "Maybe your fate's a fun one tonight after all." He winks, at Kame, gives Jin a meaningful—

Oh god. "No," Kame says fast, with his skin going cold. He looks at Jin and shakes his head. "We're just— Jin just agreed to a drink. Just for a chat. I'll be going home soon."

"I hope you enjoy your evening," Jin says, focussing on Tanaka, and Kame hopes Jin really knows this wasn't Kame's idea, Tanaka's just joking, just being himself, it's not serious.

Kame gets it together long enough to wish them good night, and maybe Tanaka's too tipsy, or he's watched Kame being strange for too long, to do more than raise an eyebrow before letting Shota lead them away. They look pleased, pleased and companionable, as they go get themselves a key.

They are smiling at each other and Shota is saying something about finding Tanaka's cape, as they go get themselves a key.

"I meant it," Kame says quickly, as soon as they're out of earshot, and now he feels guilty that Jin ended up in a situation where it's just the two of them, again. He didn't want that, it's got to be creepy. "I won't try to make you…" So many things. He can't finish that sentence. "You don't have to stay, either," he finishes helplessly.

Jin's remains sitting, with a third of his beer still in front of him, and he's making no move to drink up.

"I know that," he says. He looks at Kame thoughtfully, like he's sorting through something in his head. "I'm not worried," he says slowly, as if testing out the words for himself. "Do I look worried?"

Kame shakes his head faintly. "But you should be. I— after I— you know. All that."

There's silence. For a moment, Jin looks like he's about to laugh. Then he doesn't. Two of his fingers tap against the bottle. He looks at them as they tap again. "I'm not worried. If someone thinks I'm on a date with you," he says, and then, in a rush, "or if you really wanted one. I wouldn't be worried." When he looks at Kame again, there is a little red in his cheeks.

Kame's not sure he follows. Jin— what? Why? How would Jin… really?

"What?" is the bit that comes out.

Jin shrugs. "I believe you. I think it would be different." He's frowning at the bottle.

"It would… you have no idea," Kame says, his voice wobbling oddly. He's sitting so straight and so wired it's a miracle he's not spraining anything. "It would be so totally different." And he has to stop himself from picturing it, running off with the thoughts that he could make Jin feel _good_ and _they'd_ be good and it could feel _right_ , and he can't do this now. He's already sounding like— like he's already decided and that's not what he meant, he was clear and he wasn't lying to Jin. "I mean, I still. I wasn't. I meant it. Just drinks."

"I know," Jin says, shifting awkwardly. "I'm just saying. So you know."

"Oh." Kame swallows. He doesn't ask why. He doesn't get to ask why. He gets to figure out how maybe to be decent about this. "Oh," he says again. He needs a bit longer for the figuring out.

"I think I'd like that," he says first, because Jin should know that, and when Jin looks at him, a little dazed but not scared, he thinks his head is going to explode. "Sorry, just. A moment." He laughs breathlessly and Jin smiles too, and he goes for the first thing that comes into his head, which turns out to be, "This— this is really nice orange juice."

Jin eyes his glass, almost empty and smeared with fingerprints. "I don't think they're special oranges," he says, very seriously, as if this is a matter worth investigating. "Maybe it's a really good squeezy machine."

"One of those… is it a… some chop chop, whirl whirl kind of thing?"

Jin is gracious enough not to laugh at him. He's biting his lip, thinking. Whatever fragile thoughts they are. Then looking up. "Whirl whirl, slurp slurp." And he grins, and tries to hide it, and he's just— stunning. All of this. Stunning.

"The cook will be pleased to hear it, though," Jin takes it up when Kame doesn't. "Approved by Kamenashi-san. He might want to put a little picture of you next to it on the menu."

"Or a turtle. I could work myself through the juice menu and give turtle ratings. Like Michelin, only not." It's helping. Not the fruit juice, but the talking. He's feeling more in control of his head.

"They make tires, too, did you know that? For cars," Jin says. "Apart from the restaurant star things."

Kame had heard of it vaguely. "For motor racing?"

"Yes," Jin says, "and also normal ones. They're supposed to be good." He's radiating enthusiasm, shining with it, and Kame feels scruffy just looking at him; creased and crumpled – he feels like that all over, it must show in his clothes. His hair wasn't even right when he left the house. He smiles anyway.

"I don't know much about cars," he says. "Just, you know, how to find one I like to drive." It's all kinds of lame… god, it's worse than lame because cars, Jin knows his car, Jin's been— "I mean…"

"You have a nice car," Jin says earnestly. He doesn't look worried. Not worried. "It's so quiet, and it's got really good suspension."

Okay. Okay, this… okay. "Look, I…" Kame falters. "Are you sure? You were serious?"

Jin's slow blink tells him Jin knows at once that this isn't about liking Kame's car.

"Yes, I'm sure," Jin says, and he's not looking away.

Kame is glad he's sitting down, because everything is kind of flickering. "Then, I… if you're really sure… I don't know my schedule yet, I didn't bring… anything. But if you don't mind, I'd like to call Ootomo, maybe tomorrow, and we could find a time? That is good for you and for me and… maybe here? Would the club be better?"

They're talking details, making a date. Kame has to consider what's best, what Jin would want. Jin won't want to be alone with him where that happened. That, and other stuff.

Jin, tied down and scared, and Kame didn't even let him see. And he'd felt so good. And Jin knew he was crazy even then and it makes no difference Kame didn't hurt him, none of his excuses make a difference, Jin was right to be terrified.

And Jin looks thoughtful now; a little less sure.

"The club would be fine," Kame says, his voice dying off at the end. "Or nothing. You really don't have to."

He can't read Jin, what he's thinking. All he can do is wait.

"I think we can go to your apartment," Jin decides. "You prefer it, right? I mean, normally. For dates."

"I like it. But—"

"Then it's fine." Jin looks almost stubborn, and then he softens, shrugs. "Private is nice."

Nice.

"Okay," Kame says. Breathes. Resists the urge to mention cars or orange juice. "Okay."

Jin nods and has more beer. The bottle is almost empty now.

And they're really… really. A proper date. A nice date. He can get to know Jin, they can take their time…

Except. He should ask Jin about that, too.

"I normally… would you prefer a comfort?" It sounds cheap, cheap and crude, and he wants to wince.

But Jin's not taking it badly. Jin is thinking again.

He tilts his head in a way that looks almost like he relents. "I think… yes. A comfort would be good. We can take it easy."

"Yeah. Yes. Fine. That's great."

Jin stays thoughtful for a moment longer before he nods. "I look forward to it."

Kame doesn't question it. Once he starts questioning this it might all… he can't start. He watches Jin drain his bottle and takes his cue, finishes the last of the three-turtle orange juice.

Jin looks at his hands, then casts a light glance out over the club. "I'm afraid I should…"

It's very busy now; Kame doesn't know how he managed to miss how noisy and packed it got. "Of course," he says quickly. "I'm sorry I kept you back." And only bought him a cheap beer, when Jin could have had champagne or spent the time earning actual money.

Jin's shaking his head as they both rise. "I wasn't in any rush. And I'm glad we got to talk."

"Me too," Kame says hurriedly. "I'm really glad. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Thank you for the drink." Jin stops a moment longer; like a question—

"I'll call then?" Kame says. He's still feeling weird just thinking about it, Jin here now, and sometime next week… "Tomorrow?"

"Yes. I have Thursdays off, and a regular Saturday appointment. The rest… well, it depends, but it can be flexible."

Kame can be flexible too. Do his best to be. He'll work something out for sure. "Great. That's great."

There's a still moment where they just look at each other, as if they both don't quite know how they got here.

"Are you going home now?"

"Yes. Well, to the apartment. I don't— yes. Home. I'm going."

Jin gives a small nod. "Have a safe drive."

"Thanks. You—" He takes a deep breath and tries to stop sounding like he's drunk or on experimental drugs of some kind. "I hope you have a good evening," he says, and they say goodbye, and Kame doesn't look where Jin is going.

It's tempting when the attendant takes a moment to get his coat; just to sneak another look, make sure this really happened and he didn't fuck up tonight.

But he's not a creepy stalker and he doesn't want to know where Jin's sitting now anyway. He smiles at the man bringing him his coat and wishes him a good evening, too.

He didn't fuck up and he didn't scare Jin. He's getting a chance to do it better; maybe get to know Jin better, too.

He doesn't understand it, at all; but he's grateful.

He gets in his car and it swallows all sound, and for a moment he just sits. He's nervous about tomorrow already. Nervous and maybe a bit ridiculous, with the way his heart is beating. But nervous and giddy is better than what that other thing was. What he was.

Jin is up there, somewhere, and he's not scared or angry. He believes it can be different.

Kame blinks out into the gloomy grey parking garage and wants to smile.

He puts the key into the ignition, and the motor hums into action. Gently, because his car is nice and quiet. And has really good suspension.

His face feels warm when he pulls out of his spot.


	28. Chapter 28

### Friday 14 November

Kame closes the oven door, closes his eyes and leans against the kitchen counter.

It smells delicious. Rich in herbs and roasted vegetables, even through the efficient lids of the expensive delivery service.

He had a moment of almost wanting out over the food.

He knows so little. Never paid attention. And the stakes are so high, he's not just a first time client wanting to make a good impression, he's a guy Jin would be right to hate, and… he can't fuck up.

He's also a guy who still wanted to change his shirt.

At least the pants were easy. They're black, and he's got maybe five pairs of them, and you can't go wrong there. With the shirts, he wavered forever between blue and burgundy, until he tried to recall what he'd worn before and that really didn't go anywhere good, so he flipped a mental coin. Burgundy it is.

He hides the t-shirt he takes off in the clothes hamper. The tiles in the bathroom are gleaming; that's good. Watanabe-san came in specially this morning. Kame doesn't know if Jin will take a shower afterwards. Tatsuya always did. But this feels like an entirely different thing.

He's not deluded. He paid Tatsuya and he paid Takuya-san, too, and the few others, and he knows he was getting a service. But he doesn't think any of them ever hated it; he thinks they were able to have fun together, even if Kame paid and had to be humoured.

He adjusts the towels so it's all neat and tidy. He doesn't want to think about Jin in this bathroom, but it's normal and he will offer; Jin doesn't need awkwardness and reminders straight after sleeping with Kame, so Kame will be smooth about it. He can practice the words.

Jin's actually going to have sex with him. He just hopes he can be smooth about that. He doesn't even know what sex with Jin is like when he's not giving in to the urge to just take and control. When he's not seeing ghosts.

Kame lets go of the towels. He stops fondling the arrangement on the cabinet shelves before he can drop something.

He wishes Jin wasn't sure to have a clear picture of what sex with _Kame_ is like. No matter that Jin said 'different'. A guy can't just forget.

He takes the wine cooler out of the shelf and puts it down, looks at the clock. Ten minutes or so. At this point, it's stupid to freak himself out.

He's got white and red as usual, but he got beer, too, two different kinds including the one from the club. Sure, Jin picked red last time, but who knows. Maybe he likes it, maybe he just likes it the way he likes all sorts of music, all kinds of food. Kame got that message. But the beer was Jin's choice, when he could have chosen anything, could have picked champagne or orange juice.

Kame's undecided on the question of wine for himself. Clear head and all that. He's got orange juice, too; somehow when he ordered it he felt silly but then, Jin might want to keep a clear head, too.

His back is tight; his neck tense when he tries to turn it. He slept, but he woke up too early, thoughts of Jin in his head, thoughts of chances. The thought that he doesn't know what he'll do if he touches Jin and Jin goes stiff and scared.

Then the door bell rings, a shock and yet not, relief and nervousness all jumbled up. Okay. Jin's here. Jin came after all that. Kame can get himself together.

He actually has a debate with himself whether to press the intercom for the gate or just buzz him through and what seems friendlier. He maybe needs to work on that getting himself together thing.

"Please come on up," he says at the same time as he's pressing the button, just in case.

He was waiting here. Waiting and watching the man on the blueish screen without realizing what was happening to him, why Jin was such a threat.

Jin knows everything now. Everything that matters. Who hurt Kame and how Kame can hurt people, Jin's seen him at his worst. And he doesn't know why that doesn't mean danger, but it's not like then, nothing is. He's barely waiting for the knock, and then there's Jin and his anxiety spikes, but underneath he's just glad.

"Good evening."

Jin is in a long dark coat, with an elegant scarf against the wind; looking tall; glossy. But his hair has been blown out of perfection, and Kame thinks he likes that, and then he thinks he should maybe stop staring stupidly.

"Hi," he says. "Thanks for coming."

"Hi," Jin says with a little smile, and follows Kame inside.

"I was worried there'd be rain," Kame says while Jin unties his shoes.

"Yes, me too."

"I'm glad there wasn't."

"Yeah."

They do it all properly this time; Kame takes Jin's coat like a good host and hangs it up and drapes the dark green scarf around it, and when he turns back around, Jin has gone still. Is looking over the apartment.

"I… please," Kame says, and he walks to the table, pulls out the chair he normally uses himself, the chair that's got a view of the kitchen and the wide window and not of that place where… And not the bed, either. "Have a seat. Can I offer you a drink?"

"I…" Jin is still holding his messenger bag, and his gaze flickers away from Kame, along Kame's shelves and along… Jin's still looking. Kame feels his stomach sink. "Sorry," Jin says with a helpless shrug. He unclips the top of the bag. "I don't want to be weird. But I brought your clothes."

"Oh. I— thanks."

Jin holds a Tower Records bag out to him, and he doesn't flinch when Kame finally moves towards him to take it.

"You didn't have to," Kame mumbles.

Jin shrugs again. "They're your clothes."

"Thanks."

"No, thank you. That was— thanks."

That was… yeah. Something. Kame's throat feels tight again. He steps back and carries the bag to the wardrobe, where he can hide it from them both for the time being.

When he looks, Jin seems to be watching, track where the bag is going.

"Sorry," Jin says again, quietly acknowledging the looks and the clothes and the reminders. "I just figured… well."

Better earlier than later. Jin's thought their date through, too. How to navigate the things that could make it harder. The many, many things.

"You'll need to make a call, right?" Kame says.

Jin hesitates but doesn't deny it.

"You don't have to— you can make it here." It's just how it is, Kame will live with it. "I can take some trash down, tomorrow's trash day anyway and Watanabe-san won't be in." He's babbling.

"It's okay," Jin says. Slowly, thinking all the time, just like Kame, thinking thinking thinking. "I just need to say I got here. I don't need to be alone." He fishes his cell out of the bag and gives Kame a small smile as he flips it open. "And then a drink would be nice."

Kame nods and busies himself getting a corkscrew, keeps some distance between them while Jin says things like 'yes, got here,' and 'traffic was fine', and 'no,' and 'yes,' and ends the call again after less than a minute.

"I've got beer," Kame says. "There's also wine, and water." He set the table and he's got glasses for everything. "And orange juice," he adds. He wants to joke about turtle points, but doesn't have the confidence. "Not fresh, though," he says instead. "Pick anything you like."

Jin has moved and is looking at the glasses, the napkins; the single low candle Kame put at one end. "What are you having?" he asks.

Kame's not sure. Clear head is good. So's not tripping over every word. He'd hoped for a cue, but he's the host, he should know his own mind. "I'll probably have some wine. And water." It seems safe enough.

"That sounds good."

"Or maybe you want to see the food first? See what you like with it?"

"Yes. That's a good idea," Jin says. At Kame's gesture he sits, very upright, very much like waiting, but the smile looks real. "It smells great."

Kame hopes he got it right. That he got at least that right.

"I ordered Italian," he explains. Jin looks interested.

He peers curiously into the first dish Kame puts on the table. "Cannelloni? Shrimp?"

"Seafood," Kame says. "Shrimp, clam, scallop. I haven't had it before, but the place where I order recommended it. I hope you like it."

"I like pasta," Jin says simply. "And seafood. These look great."

Encouraged, Kame goes back for the two sauces. "I wasn't sure what you'd like," he says. "So I picked some different things." There's gremolata veal, too, just in case Kame misunderstood about the pasta. Not like he had much to go on, and he was so glad he could remember that at all. "Not for the cannelloni," he says when he puts the sauces down.

Jin nods slowly. "Seafood cannelloni bolognese. That would be unconventional." He inclines his head thoughtfully. "The alfredo might go…"

But by then Kame has brought the serving bowl of tagliatelle across.

Jin smiles. "Okay. That works much better."

Kame brings the veal quickly, and the thin potato slices that go with it.

"Are you having that?" Jin asks.

"I don't know yet," Kame admits. He hasn't actually thought of these with any sort of appetite. He gets the roasted vegetables last, and his hands feel damp when he takes off the mitts.

"I think I'll go with wine," Jin says with a definitive nod.

Kame is almost disappointed it's not beer. At least he'd know… But he's being ridiculous. Wine works well for this food.

He pours some for both of them and Jin thanks him, and then he sits and… it's weird. Almost rushed. Like one moment Jin's in a too-small tracksuit and the next they're in front of steaming dishes of Italian food, and supposed to get on with it.

"This looks really good," Jin says encouragingly and a little professionally. "I haven't had dinner. I was hoping we could do this."

"I'm glad…" Glad Jin didn't think he'd just ordered him over for sex. Like all those other times. "I hope you like it."

Jin looks at him a little uncertainly. He touches the fork as if he wants to move on, but then he pulls his hand back under the table.

If they do this much longer the food will get cold.

"What would you like?" Kame asks, very politely because polite seems safest, at least one thing he feels good at right now.

Jin chooses the cannelloni and asks for a small portion, and some vegetables. Kame has some of the veal and potatoes. Normally, Kame would be curious about the seafood, but he worries that it'll look weird if he imitates Jin.

Maybe he can also just not think about the food and simply eat it.

Jin starts slowly and carefully, and Kame tries to mind his own business, not watch every movement he makes.

He has some wine, clear head be damned, and they smile briefly at each other. Jin drinks when he does.

"If there's anything else you'd like," Kame says, just to make sure, "really… if you want to change to beer, or water." Like he can't stop from piling up the words, like that'll help at all.

"I like wine." Jin lifts his glass again. His hands are very elegant. He has another sip, as if to prove himself.

Kame tries not to read things into it. Of course Jin doesn't want them to bumble their way from one awkward moment to the next. Of course Jin is trying to smooth the way, too.

"Sorry," Kame mumbles. "I'm sorry it's weird."

Jin pauses, but doesn't put his fork down. His shoulders rise subtly. "I didn't really expect it not to be a little weird," he admits.

Kame stares. Suddenly he can't think. "I'd like it to be nice."

He knows it sounds stupid. Incredibly stupid, the moment it's out of his mouth. He doesn't even need the careful restraint drawing over Jin's features, the way he looks over the table like a polite guest, to know how stupid that sounded.

"This is very nice," Jin says feebly.

Kame feels like a fool; horrible and exposed. But he's only got himself to blame and he'll deal.

"Well, it's food," he says, looking down at it. Then he figures he might as well. "How is… how are your cannelloni?"

"They're very nice."

Very nice. Kame nods.

"I like pasta a lot."

When he looks up, Jin is watching him.

"You said you haven't had this?" Jin asks carefully. He points at his plate with his fork and somehow it looks dorky and spontaneous and Kame finds himself with the bizarre wish that he'll do that again. "You should— it's worth trying. I really like it."

"Okay," Kame nods. "I will."

They have another exchange about food and fish, and Jin is very interested in the fact that Kame likes squid.

Then they fall silent again.

Kame picks at his food, trying on this thought and that. He can almost feel Jin doing the same.

"Maybe we should have gone to the aquarium," Kame says. He's not doing well here. "We could have talked about the penguins and things."

"Do you do that?" Jin asks eagerly. "When you have dates. Do you go to the zoo and places?"

Kame resists the urge to drain his wine and pour himself another glass. "I don't really go out much," he admits. It was nicer to think of the penguins in the abstract. "I… it's difficult."

"I imagine," Jin says after a small pause, and yes, Jin knows enough pathetic closeted politicians and stars and rich family men that he shouldn't have to ask. But Kame started it, with his stupid penguins. "Especially after… when there was something like that," Jin says softly.

"That… yes," Kame says. It did make it worse, but he can't lie; not now. It wasn't good all along; it was always part of the problem. "I didn't really go out much before, either. It was… I worried."

Jin's absorbing that while he looks at the reflection of light in his wine. "That must be hard," he finally says.

Kame would really prefer not to think about it. About loud accusations and quiet resentment, about the guilt constant and heavy in his stomach, making him feel trapped even as he was terrified Souji would leave him. He wishes he could get out of this conversation. But he can't. Jin deserves answers.

"It was. We had some disagreements about it."

Jin nods slowly. And he's read stuff, he'll be putting pieces together now, judging all the things that got them here where he had to take the fallout, and Kame can't stop him, he's bound even by the unspoken questions now.

"His friends at university knew he was gay. He never believed in hiding. That actually made it harder. If we were seen… you know."

He can't read Jin's expression well. Whatever Jin's thinking, he's trying to be discreet about it. "So you met at university?" he says eventually.

"No, before then. He entered late, after getting job experience." Kame doesn't want to say it but it's another part of the picture. "I didn't go to university." They gave him his high school degree just because he was famous. He couldn't deny that when Souji got sarcastic about it, either. He stares off somewhere to the side and hopes he's not flushing, he's an idiot to be embarrassed. Nobody's cared in ages, not even Takuya-san.

He wants more wine. But he's not having any. And he wants to get up and get some distance from this whole conversation but he's not doing that, either. Because that… that might be freaking Jin out again and he wants that least of all. He tries a smile and meets Jin's eyes again.

Jin seems a little helpless, and he's fondling his wine. "How long were you together?" he asks; more Souji, more questions, but Kame can actually see the intention behind it. Jin is trying to help him out with an easy one.

"Two years," he says. One year, eleven months. "We met some time before that."

"That's pretty long."

"I guess. I hadn't…" More nonsense; of course he's got nothing to compare it to, he hasn't _had_ any other relationship, and Jin can probably guess he's not hiding a boyfriend from the men he's paying for sex. And Jin's nodding again, kind of quickly, and maybe they can get off this thing now, maybe it doesn't have to be all about Kame. "What about you?" he says. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

The answer comes so fast he's almost missed it and then it's over, and Jin isn't meeting Kame's eyes and making no attempt to soften it at all. He puts his wine glass down and picks up the cutlery, and eats.

Right.

Kame's not going to be upset. Maybe it was a bad question and even if it wasn't, Jin doesn't owe _him_ any truths about his life, doesn't owe him any openness or explanations. And if he doesn't want to talk, then…

Back to the weather, maybe. Back to the food, chopsticks versus forks if they get really creative. Beware of penguins.

"So the other day…"

Kame looks up. That could mean anything, it could—

Jin sees it too, and hurries on. "Maybe two weeks ago? I saw you on that show. With the pregnant actress."

Okay. That's okay, at least it's not about the food. "We did a few promotions together. Just one of those things that come with the job," he says. "Which one was it?"

Jin frowns a bit. "Hm…"

"I mean, it doesn't matter, it's not very important," Kame says quickly. "They're all kind of silly, really."

But Jin's face has become discreetly amused. "You wore some sort of apron."

That… must have been the one with the speed-cooking contest. And the speed-eating. "I… yeah. That one was silly too."

Jin doesn't seem to find it ridiculous, though. He seems to like this better than talking about the weather. "Should she still be doing this sort of thing? Is that healthy for the baby? She's been pregnant for a while now…"

"Six months or so," Kame says. "I asked her, but she says that's still okay. And, well, the producers were unhappy that she stayed on, and now they're all 'you said you could do this, so do it'."

"I read about that," Jin nods. "She must have been glad to have your support."

"I guess… yeah. She wants to name the child after me if it's a boy." He flushes a little but Jin just looks pleased for him, and it's a nice thought. He felt honoured when she told him.

"That's cool," Jin says. "Do you think you'll see her after the film? And the kid?"

"It would be nice. I don't have much experience with kids," Kame admits.

"If he can say Kamenashi-san was his babysitter when he goes to school, he might find that cool."

"Yeah, maybe," Kame says, amused by the thought. "Though I doubt I'll appeal to his age group. Do you like children?"

It's not a sudden wall this time – just some measure of life fading from Jin's gestures, his smile losing depth. What remains is politely vague. "Yes, they're nice."

"I just… well." Kame examines his veal again; he's only halfway through. He'll end up throwing all of this out.

Jin says nothing, not for a long moment. "I don't have much to do with them, either." Kame can tell he's gone back to eating.

"Yeah."

Kame pushes the food on his plate around. He checks his wine glass and swallows hard against the thought that this isn't working, this may just not _work_. That they may have been idiots both to think it could.

Kame has made some progress on the veal before Jin says, "Is it okay if I try the tagliatelle, too?"

When Kame raises his head, Jin's face doesn't suggest that food is really some overriding craving. But after a moment there's a slow, hopeful tilt of his head towards the second pasta dish.

Kame hurries up and nods. "Of course. You can try whatever you like, no need to ask. If you want another drink or something…"

Jin helps himself to a very small spoonful of the other pasta, more symbolic than anything. "Thanks. And— thank you, for the food. This is a really nice selection."

"I'm glad you like it."

Kame tries the cannelloni like Jin recommended, but neither of them comments on it. It feels weird and now he's wondering if Jin's only eating to please him, because some food Kame ordered somewhere is all that they can get right between them.

"We'll never get it all eaten, though," Jin says, sounding slightly regretful.

"I can freeze some of it," Kame says. "I can heat it up again next week when I'm staying here."

Jin seems surprised. "You do that?"

Kame doesn't see why not. "It's convenient," he says, and Jin nods.

"Better not do that with the seafood, though," he muses.

Kame laughs for the first time since Jin came in. "Oh no, I know exactly what's going to happen with the seafood."

Jin lifts a fork around which he's neatly rolled some tagliatelle and gives him a critical look. "Don't tell me. That cat from last time. That _bites_ you."

"She only does it—"

Last time.

Kame falters. Jin blinks. They stare at each other over food and wine and all the little trappings, and Kame wants to hide his face away.

Jin sounds toneless when he says, "Anyway, she was pretty memorable. That day."

Yeah. That last time. Where Kame tried, too. Sat at this table and didn't know what to say.

Not the other last time.

"What was her name again?" Jin's voice is a little unsteady.

"Natsuko."

"Right. Yes."

"She first came in the summer… Bit me then, too, come to think of it." He laughs, but this time it doesn't feel good.

"And she's getting your squid?" Jin asks helplessly.

Kame says nothing. Just takes a shaky breath.

Jin's fingers are restless on the table, touching the napkin, putting things in order.

"Sorry," Kame says. "I'm… I'm really sorry."

And then he has a good look at Jin, who is nodding along with a blank pale face and sitting so straight it must hurt.

It sobers Kame up fast. He's not the one with a right to freak out here. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Jin says at once. He blinks again, and it takes a moment while some of the tension fades. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

Kame waits, waits for him to change his mind, but Jin nods again and it looks like he's surer now.

"Anyway," Kame says, because something needs to be said to get them away from this place, "she doesn't always bite."

"Just when you seem especially tasty?" Jin knows what Kame is doing, is trying to play along.

"When… maybe she had a bad day at the office."

Jin nods. "And she can hardly kick the cat. I get it now."

At last, he rewinds the half-forgotten tagliatelle and eats them, and… good.

"Yeah," Kame says, and he still feels like he's catching up with himself, barely catching up with _them_ again. "It's a cat's life."

Jin smiles a little, nods a little, and has a little more to eat.

Kame finishes up his roasted vegetables, leaving just the last forkful so Jin doesn't feel rushed. But Jin is almost done, too. He stuck with the pasta dishes, Kame notes, so that's one to remember.

Maybe.

He asks about pizza, and Jin gives him a brief review of the most recommended types while he mops up the last of the bolognese. Apparently, making proper Italian pizza is an art mastered only by initiates. Jin recommends a couple of places, and particular toppings.

"And don't let anybody put mayonnaise on it," he warns. "Or potatoes. That's just wrong."

Kame notes it and promises to be careful, and then they are both done with their meals.

It feels too early. It's too soon… too soon after all that slippery ground, too soon after that time, Kame doesn't even know.

But Jin, too, thought they could do this.

"Would you like another drink?" Kame says cautiously. "To help the food settle? Whisky?" It'll give him a bit more time to figure out what he should do, what they should do, what… should be done.

Because Jin's been wrong before.

Jin makes a face of determined concentration. "Buruichilajiku," he says. "Yes?"

Kame finds a smile. "If you like. I also have a lighter tasting one." He gets up and motions that Jin is very welcome to move on to the couch, where they can sit more comfortably.

"That one was nice," Jin says, rising, and Kame starts busying himself about ice for himself and a plain drink for Jin.

He can feel Jin moving behind him, away towards the sitting group, but by the time he turns around with the two glasses in his hands, Jin is still standing, looking around curiously almost like he did the first time, only the walls don't have holes now and all Jin is looking at is Kame's bookshelves and what's visible of his CD collection.

Their fingers touch when Kame hands over the tumbler.

"Thanks." Jin has a sip, then tilts his head to read the spine of a book on hiking trails in Hokkaido Kame once got as a gift from a co-star.

He remembers how exposed he felt to have Jin in here, looking at his possessions; forming opinions.

He still sees the resemblance if he tries, especially when Jin turns his head a certain way and draws in his shoulders, that shyness Souji had when he felt conscious of his height. But it takes an effort; he has to try _not_ to see Jin, and he's got no reason to want that. When Jin smiles to himself, like he's not even noticing, he looks nothing like Souji.

"That's an interesting picture," he says, nodding towards the shot with Fujikage-san and Midori and all the others, clowning around on the beach like drunk tourists.

"That's from my first movie. It was an independent production. We shot most of it in Shirahama."

"You look like you had fun."

Kame knows how happy he felt, and how proud. In the picture he looks like a kid drowning in his dad's hawaii shirt, and his sunburnt face makes him look totally smashed.

"I look like a dork."

Jin tilts his head further. There's a brief, cautious glance at Kame. Then he admits, "A little, maybe."

"Or a lot." He looks at the picture again and for an uncomfortable moment he wonders if Jin can tell which one of these people is his wife now.

"I saw you're going to do a samurai film next," Jin says. "That's very interesting."

"I hope it will be." He tries to gauge if Jin is done looking; he doesn't want to rush him. But Jin's focussing on Kame now and readily accepts his invitation to sit.

"Are you interested in that period?" Jin asks once they're settled on the couch.

"A little bit," Kame says. "When I was younger. I liked the films."

Jin nods. "Yeah. There are some good ones." He's turned towards Kame and isn't as withdrawn as he could be, given the last conversation they had on this couch. "What was your favourite?" he asks.

"Hm. Difficult. It's been a while."

Jin gives him a slow once-over, and then lets some amusement shine through. "Practically ages."

"I'm not actually that young," Kame protests. "I'm allowed to forget stuff from when I was twelve."

Jin has a sip of his whisky. There's a second's hesitation, before he puts on some badly-acted thoughtfulness. "I don't think you're allowed to do that before you're thirty, actually." His eyes never leave Kame's face and Kame can tell he's testing this out, trying a new mood, and his attention feels warm and better than anything that came before, even if Kame's thoughts go dizzy with how much he doesn't want to fuck up here.

"Sorry, my bad," he says. "Guess I should study the rules a bit more carefully."

"I think they may have copies at the club."

Kame laughs a little, imagining asking Ootomo for the appropriate manual.

Jin changes his glass to the other hand and shifts his legs as he leans into the backrest. Kame notes he stays deliberately open. Turned towards the client's eye. Tatsuya does it, too, but on Jin it's unexpected; Kame wonders if it's training and comes without thinking, or if Jin's relaxed enough to want to look available, and isn't worried about what's still to come.

"What about more recently, then?" Jin asks. "Or was it just a passing phase?"

"Oh no," Kame says. "I still like them. The cool fights in particular.

Jin laughs. "Yeah. That can be fun to watch." He regards his whisky and frowns. "The symbolical cutting of cherry trees in moonlight, not so much."

"That was awful," Kame says. "You watched that, too?"

Jin glances over, intrigued, like he didn't really expect Kame to pick up on the reference. "I guess anybody who… it makes sense to give it a try, you know. It's even famous." His frown gets deeper. "Guess that's only because it ends all mystical and doomed."

"I guess there isn't much of a market for gay samurai who just get on with their lives," Kame says. "Mine's got a wife, too."

"I don't see why they couldn't do totally the same things as other samurai," Jin says. "I mean, they did. People know that. Except nobody would want to produce that, I guess."

Or act in it.

He's not saying it, but it's there in the sudden way Jin turns to his glass and focuses on looking inconspicuous. And it stings.

His agent would have a fit; Kame could say that. He doesn't because he knows he wouldn't take the part of a gay character, or even one with heavy subtext, because some questions just don't have to be provoked.

Of course Souji never saw it that way, either.

He takes a large gulp of his whisky. He's not angry, but it doesn't feel good either. He doesn't like reminders of what he just can't do, and he never used to get them on dates.

When he puts the glass down again, he finds Jin's eyes on him. They flicker away when the moment gets long.

"I guess they wouldn't," Kame says. His shrug feels slow and weird; weird like the way Jin is watching him from the side.

"Sorry," Jin says evenly.

Kame just shakes his head.

"No, that probably came out totally wrong." Now Jin's making a face showing just how wrong he means.

Kame snorts, exasperated with the topic, with himself. "Probably more like totally right." He finds himself sounding apologetic, but as long Jin doesn't think he's completely ridiculous, he doesn't actually care that much about admitting it. "I can't say… I mean, yeah. You've got a point. It's just… difficult."

"Yeah," Jin says. "I get that. Really, that was stupid of me in the first place." His eyes stay on Kame for a moment longer, considering again, and then he smiles in a lopsided way and swirls his drink with an awkward hand. "It's just that that film annoys me so much."

Kame nods. "It annoys me, too. Really." He thinks he can say that; he trusts Jin not to point out that he's part of the problem. "Both because of… well, what you say, I do agree with that. But it's also incredibly boring." It reminded him of the arthouse films Souji liked to go to.

Jin laughs, and more of the caution falls away. "Isn't it. They should have cut those last twenty minutes."

"Lopped them off."

"Like their precious cherry tree."

He means it; just like the disappointment in producers and actors; just like no mayonnaise and potatoes on pizza. Kame is learning things.

"I'll drink to that," Kame says, and tries hard to find a remaining drop after his earlier gulp.

Jin takes a greater sip and smiles at him over the glass.

"Hm, I guess that was that." Kame turns his empty glass this way and that before he puts it down on the table. He only realizes then how final that could look, and he didn't mean that yet.

Not that Jin looks alarmed, the way he leans comfortably into the leather. He's watching Kame's movements.

"Anyway," Kame says, "I hope this one won't be boring. The script seemed promising."

"I look forward to watching it."

He wonders if Jin is sure. It's getting late and they can only stretch the prelude out so long. "Jin," he starts, and then stops. He didn't get past that, not even in the club, when Jin said it was okay.

Jin's position remains open and relaxed and maybe Kame only imagines that the air has gone still between them.

"I know you didn't want me to— I know it's normal, in the club," he says. "For everybody to be that familiar with the escorts."

He stops, because Jin looks so surprised and because he brought it up once before and Jin didn't want to hear it then, either.

"Yes," Jin says, confused but encouraging.

"And I guess I see how getting more formal would be kind of bizarre given the whole…" He feels stupid, babbling and burdening the mood like that, but this is important, not some whim. "But it doesn't seem… it doesn't feel right. When I say it like that and you call me Kamenashi-san. So if… if there's a way you wouldn't mind—"

Some of the surprise fades. Jin is mulling it over, and the time he takes makes Kame hope that he's not just going with a client's eccentricities but that he understands how Kame means it.

"Pretty much everybody calls you Kame…" he considers carefully.

"Kame would be fine." Everybody, almost everybody. Strangers, friends, senior colleagues, fourteen-year-old girls who write him letters. And Jin. That would be fine.

Jin is breaking into a grin. "Kame-sama."

"Kame," Kame says firmly. "I mean, if that would be okay with you."

"That's fine with me," Jin says, and nods. "Kame."

"Yeah," Kame says, relieved that it sounds so much better. "Thank you."

Then they're both silent. It's a weird but pleasant moment.

Jin is playing with the rest of his drink, a little smile making his face soft and fascinating. He's got one leg pulled up, his shoulders leaning easy into the corner, and when he looks back up at Kame the distance seems fuller somehow, close.

Kame has been watching himself so sharply for so long that the flicker of desire takes him by surprise.

"Have you ever had a turtle?" Jin asks, peering up.

"No," Kame says. "Somehow it never happened. Our family's always had dogs."

"I guess they're a bit more fun than turtles."

"Yes. But they're also a big commitment. With my current lifestyle…" Kame shrugs. He almost doesn't ask. "Do you have a pet?"

"No," Jin says, and thinks briefly. "With my current lifestyle…" he adds, and it doesn't sound bad, it sounds teasing.

"I guess," Kame admits. "So what do you like to do in your spare time?"

Jin's face doesn't change. "I like… all kinds of things," he says, looking like he's aware what sort of answer that is.

Kame makes sure it doesn't rattle him this time. It's not so bad, really. He nods, keeps it light. "I see. Yeah."

"You like baseball, right?" Jin says eagerly.

"Yeah," Kame repeats. Jin doesn't want to stop the conversation; Jin's at least asking him back. "I like it a lot."

"To play or to watch?"

"I played in school. But then, well, I started acting and didn't have time for practice. I like watching it too."

"Were you good?"

Kame laughs. "Well, I was all arms and legs at that age… and the arms were useful for something."

Jin tilts his head again, and Kame can watch as he lets go of the playful interview mode, turns quiet. Not seductive. Just heavy, wondering, and Kame feels confused under that gaze but also warm, and Jin's eyes are really beautiful.

Jin takes a little breath. "I kind of like soccer," he says.

Soccer. Kame nods, slowly. He doesn't know why he's feeling nervous. "I never understood all of the rules," he says. "I caught some stuff when the world cup was here…" He hopes that's not a brainless thing to say when it was so long ago.

But Jin gives him a cautious smile. "That was pretty exciting, yeah. Those were some good matches, never mind what they said about our group."

Kame nods and tries not to look too uneducated. "Do you play?"

"Well," Jin says, "like you. When I was younger." The lightness sounds a little forced. "If I played now, Ootomo would kill me. You pick up bruises and stuff."

An awkward little shrug, and Kame grimaces in understanding. He remembers the make-up artist fussing over Morioka's face, but it's no longer a good memory and it's not the same, anyway, so he doesn't mention it. Instead he says, "That's a pity." He can't say he wouldn't mind the bruises; that would sound horrible and not like he means it.

But Jin would probably look good running on a field like that, good and full of strength, having fun… Kame wonders what he's like when he's flushed and excited doing something he likes, caught up in the challenge. How he moves without an audience to please.

Jin looks at him and even the superficial lightness fades, his eyes going dark and serious and Kame feels caught, caught at thoughts…

Jin isn't startled, and he holds Kame's eyes for a naked moment. Then he lowers his head and leans forward to put his glass on the table.

Suddenly Kame is nervous.

But Jin, when he pulls back up, still has that calm. "Would you like us to move on now?"

Kame knew that was next. They both did. He wanted that. And it's not as fast as it feels.

"It was a very nice meal," Jin adds.

"I guess it's…" That time.

And there's things he wants, still. To do this differently. _So_ differently. To know it can be like that between them.

But if _he's_ sitting here with his body on alert and a twist in his stomach, Jin must be feeling it too; all those other times, everything Kame did.

Even if Kame can't see it under that calm. "Jin," he says, and then he takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, because Jin is getting ready, presenting confidence, and Kame has to be calm, too, and more organized than his uneven thoughts.

And Jin is waiting; just waiting, and Kame can tell he's trying to look as unfazed as possible. Professional, maybe, though he's never seen Tatsuya look like that, or Takuya, or anybody.

"We don't have to do this," Kame finally says, plain as that. It's what he means. They don't. He wants to, he knows that, but not if Jin… "If you're not sure, or if you're worried, we can leave it. Just stop here. I really enjoyed your company this evening. I'm grateful you came. If you wanted to call it off now, Ootomo would never know."

Jin's eerie quiet fades. He still looks serene, a shine that could fracture from a breath of air. But no longer so distant, he's here and he's _thinking_. Thinking while he's looking at Kame and considering his words.

There's no smile, but something is surfacing. Something that looks real. "I don't want to call it off."

Kame nods slowly, while his stomach goes fluttery. "Just," he says. "You can."

Jin nods just as slowly. "Yeah."

It takes them a moment. Then Jin is the one who moves first, ready to get up, and Kame gets with it and then they both stand roughly at the same time. Kame feels a little weak.

But Jin shouldn't have to orchestrate this. Kame makes the sort of inviting gesture he once didn't even have to think about, and follows fast enough so Jin doesn't feel awkward alone in front of the bed.

The bed. There they are. Jin's dropped the club sachets on the nightstand with a subtle move. They still need to get their clothes off.

He's got three buttons done when he notices how quiet it is. "Would you… would you like some music?" he asks. "Do you think that would be nice?"

The way Jin's fingers fumble on the button is almost too sudden to notice, if Kame were anyone else, anyone who could afford to miss it.

"I… no," Jin says. He lowers his hands. Thinking again. "No, not really." Kame counts the seconds that Jin's holding his breath. "But if you'd prefer it, it's fine."

Kame pays. Kame calls the shots. What he'd prefer is not to know that. "No, I don't need it," he says. "We can leave it."

Now there is a smile tugging at Jin's mouth. "Okay. Thanks."

"You don't… really, it's fine. Totally fine."

"Okay." Jin picks up where he left off, slipping buttons through deep green silk.

Kame gets his shirt and trousers off without sneaking glances at Jin too much, and then he folds it all neatly and then he gets the remote from the nightstand and changes the lights to the nicer setting.

"Is it okay like this?" he asks. "Or… do you want it off?" And he's flushing again, remembering; he doesn't want to flounder in the dark but if Jin has a preference, he can work with that.

"This is good," Jin says. He's dropped his underwear with the pants and he's naked, totally naked, and Kame feels stupid focussing on his face like he's some frightened first-timer but he doesn't know what else to do, he doesn't want to freak Jin out by staring. "I'd like to see you."

That makes sense. Probably reasonable, wanting to watch the guy who went nuts on you, and not just once.

On that bed. He put a blindfold on Jin. Right here on this bed.

He can't do this; can't get stuck on just how crazy he was, because if he just stands here ashamed of himself, Jin will have to do everything, and there are no words for how ridiculous and unfair that would be.

Besides, it doesn't work like that.

Jin is waiting, and he's not even looking at the bed. He's waiting for Kame. Who's still in his underpants, and should get on with it.

He drops them and kicks them to the side without fussing, which seems to amuse Jin briefly.

Jin isn't shy about looking at Kame's body, and somehow that helps, makes Kame feel like it's okay for him to look, too.

He's never… No, he's looked. Looked plenty. But not like this, not when he's rattled and uncertain, not when Jin isn't trapped and resenting him.

And somebody should actually do something, right about now, and that somebody should really be him.

He moves slowly, gives Jin time. That seems right, even though he doesn't think Jin will back away, not really.

And Jin doesn't. Not from the closeness, and then not from his touch; a hand on Jin's arm, both hands, running up. No pushing Kame off, no tensing. Kame takes another step, runs his hand up and around one shoulder, and Jin lets him pull him in.

They're close enough that Kame can feel the heat build between them, and if Kame were hard, he'd be… they'd be touching there, too. But he isn't, and neither is Jin, but that makes sense and doesn't matter because there is no rush.

He takes the final step to bring their bodies together and runs his hands along Jin's back, where the skin is cooler. He leans his forehead against Jin's shoulder, feels Jin's hands come to rest carefully on his hips.

Smooth skin under his trailing fingers, and then the bumps of Jin's spine. Once or twice his fingertips graze light strands of hair.

It's quiet; their breathing is quiet, too.

New. New, and warm, and his skin is tingling against Jin's. Jin's hands are still on his hips, making the faintest little strokes but doing nothing else; not constraining, not pulling.

There's the faint scent of unfamiliar shampoo; unfamiliar because he never paid attention. Kame wants to know this much better, to know Jin much better, but slow is good. Slow keeps him grounded and his thoughts clear and present, and he can smooth away his own nervousness with each trace of his palm.

He touches Jin's shoulders again; they're wider than his and they feel great, strong. This time his fingers follow Jin's bones around the front, down along Jin's neck where they get sharper— and suddenly there's a change in Jin, so subtle he only notices because they're standing so still.

He has to look up to see Jin's face. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," Jin says with a tiny shake of his head. Kame can't read his eyes at all but there's an odd sort of concentration, a different stillness.

"Could you—"

And whatever it is, Jin puts it away, behind a new resolve. His hands on Kame's hips feel different somehow, more aware. "I'm sure I could," he says, almost as smooth as it could sound from others. "What would you like?"

It's like all the warmth around Kame is gone. He shakes his head quickly, and can just about stop himself from pulling his hands away. "No, that— I didn't mean that."

"It's all right," Jin says, still intent with focus. "You can want things."

 _You're meant to want things here._

Takuya-san said that, the very first time.

And it's a reasonable thing for Jin to ask, even if that's not what Kame meant. He needs cues, and a decent client will say what he wants. Kame is supposed to have desires and opinions.

He makes his hands move, slow careful brushes that don't trail down to Jin's chest, because he still doesn't know what that was, and then he stops, because it doesn't make him feel less awkward. If he'd ever been a decent client with Jin, he wouldn't be afraid to have opinions.

"I didn't mean that," he repeats, meeting Jin's eyes. "I know…" What this is. He hates the thought, and hates how crude it sounds. But he knows. "I know it's not required… you don't have to tell me things. I know I can't ask that." Not from Jin, Jin in particular, with all that Kame did to him before. "But could you tell me to stop if I do something you don't want?" he asks. "I _will_ stop. Just, I can't know unless… sometimes it's hard to guess."

Jin takes a long, unreadable moment. Kame knows what he's thinking because _he_ is remembering it, too, all the times he guessed right before. But still they both decided to do this, to try this, and Kame needs to know. "Okay," Jin says at last. "All right."

"Really, I'll stop," Kame insists. "I don't need to do something you don't want. I like all kinds of things." Oh god, that— Well done, Kamenashi. But he just pushes on. "So just stop me if… you know. If it's not good. I'd be really grateful."

Jin nods again, but he's not smiling. It's then that Kame notices he's stopped touching Jin sometime during this. "Yes, okay," Jin repeats.

"Okay," Kame echoes. He feels lost, and he doesn't know where to pick back up. And yet they're still close. If he could burden Jin at all, he'd just go for touch, let it carry them past the moment, it works like that with… other people he doesn't know.

"My collarbones are weird."

"What?"

"My collarbones," Jin says. "They're weird. Like ticklish, only weirder. I don't like to have them touched. Especially not lightly." He's not looking smooth now, not at all, and that's _so_ much better. Kame wants to thank him just for the little moment where he bites his lip.

He drops his head and tries not to smile too stupidly. Jin's collarbones. "They look really nice," he says, and then that's just as stupid.

He feels Jin touch him on the forearm, very lightly and very briefly. But even when that stops Jin doesn't seem far away anymore. "Should we get on the bed then?" Jin asks in a low voice.

The bed. Yes. Once they get there, Kame can figure out what next. "Yes. I'd like that," he says. "Thanks."

Jin looks at him for a bemused moment but then he draws away, takes the lead. He moves like he knows what he's doing, which is good; it helps Kame when he follows, and he even gets a bit aroused.

Jin sits, and then he shifts towards the middle. Nothing graceless here now. He lies back, still contained but his eyes are on Kame and his hair falls away with how he raises his chin when Kame puts his knees on the bed, Jin's body sinking lower, and the whole picture gives Kame a jolt.

"You're really beautiful," he says, never mind that he's stating the obvious.

Jin doesn't change. "Thank you."

"Really," Kame says. "I mean—" That Jin is hot when he's stretched out and blind and available, that he looks best staring up from his knees, has a pretty mouth for people to fuck, people like— some _asshole_ —

He feels naked and nauseous and idiotic, and when he shakes his head he doesn't know _how_ he means it, only that the words are a mess in his mind and he's aching with it, he can't get it to clear up.

"Will you come here?" Jin asks with a tiny frown, and he doesn't reach out but he's open and here, and waiting. Jin's still waiting.

"Yeah," Kame says hoarsely. "Sorry." He shuffles closer. Moving on a bed has never felt more complicated.

So is settling down, knowing where to touch; everything is complicated in his head now, and he has to take a moment and remind himself that this is sex and he's had sex before, and even Jin won't automatically hate everything he does. He didn't just now, and that… that worked okay, his hand on Jin's arm, and along his shoulder, and yes, it seems good now, too.

Only the collarbones. Watch out for the collarbones. Kame can do that.

He stretches alongside him, not holding him down, being careful. "Is this okay?" he asks just to be sure, with his hand flat on Jin's chest, and Jin doesn't laugh, just smiles a little and moves into his touch.

"Yeah, sure."

Kame stays mindful of collarbones when he lets his hand travel. Jin's breaths are steady under his touch, like Jin is okay, and after a few more moments it seems like Jin is waiting, and Kame dares move in a little closer.

Jin helps so their knees don't bump when Kame's leg goes over his, and wriggles up a little, as if he likes the weight.

They end up looking at each other, their faces close, and Kame feels it in a rush how much he doesn't want to ruin this.

He knows what he'd do now; what he likes. "Is kissing okay for you?"

Jin considers. Then he turns his head and his lips part a little, and Kame doesn't have to do much, doesn't have to think much, just dip his head and it happens, fleeting and soft and warm enough to tingle under his skin.

Nice. So nice.

But he pulls back so he can see better, see if that worked for Jin, too.

Jin is licking his lips thoughtfully. He looks… appreciative. "Yes," he says with a slow teasing glint. "Yes, I think that's okay. Have you considered tongue?"

If they were… if they were anyone else, Kame would pounce, take up the challenge. "I could be persuaded," he manages instead.

And still he'd hesitate, but Jin simply parts his lips again and it doesn't get surer than this, and when Kame brings their mouths together there's a gentle huff of air. Jin closes his eyes.

Kame stays slow; for a hyperconscious moment he thinks about angles and depth and the weirdness of kissing someone new. Then Jin's lips move on his, and he slips his tongue in and those thoughts go away. It works, with Jin's tongue flicking against his, and it's warm and just a little wet, the way Kame likes it, the _normal_ way he likes it. There's pressure back, and the heats spreads along his body when they find how they fit, and they do fit, and Jin's okay and Kame is getting a little breathless, just being so close.

When he pulls up it's for air, and the slow way Jin blinks his eyes open makes his chest feel tight and full. "That was a very good suggestion," he says when he feels really brave, and Jin's mouth, darker now and slightly moist, turns up faintly at the corners.

"Good," is all he says, though, and Kame thinks if that worked so well they should try it again, just to make sure.

And it's even better. Better with Jin warming more under his palms. Better when Kame can move a hand without overthinking. They make sure for a while, and he figures out how Jin likes to be kissed, how Jin moves against him when he tries this or that. He finds out Jin isn't ticklish at the hips, that his hands are welcome there, and before that thought even settles, Jin lifts into his touch.

"This okay?" Kame whispers, just over Jin's mouth, his fingertips light all along Jin's sides.

Jin bucks up against him, just a little bit. "Very," he says. He might be getting hard, also just a little bit.

Kame holds still under a shiver of pleasure. Jin likes what he's doing, it's going okay. And he can do other stuff, more good stuff…

He lets the kiss slip, trail soft along Jin's jaw and Jin's breath is warm in his ear, his eyes closing again. The burst of air when Kame asks if it's okay could be laughter or arousal, but good in any case.

He makes it warmer with his mouth on Jin's neck, and wetter. Slow on every inch of skin, and the tension in Jin holds tiny sighs and subtle shifts, a turn of his head that says he likes it, that more is okay.

At some point he feels Jin's erection pressing against his thigh.

It's been a while since he's been so happy to feel a hard-on, he thinks a bit giddily, and they're in no rush but still, it can be nice, and he can keep his mouth right here where Jin is bending his neck back, opening up; let his hand wander down, a soft slide over Jin's belly until he's there and—

"All right?" he asks belatedly, though he can feel Jin already and all he has to do is make it a proper stroke, he can find out what Jin likes, how he likes this best…

"Sure," Jin says, pushing up in a perfect little arch and his eyes are low, his breath still fast from Kame's mouth and… and… and Kame doesn't know. Because Jin would say that, he thinks with a chill. It could be true. It could be humouring the client, Kame getting what he paid for, because touching Jin's cock is perfectly reasonable. And he just can't know.

He strokes once because doesn't want to freeze them up, and Jin looks okay, with his eyes closed and a bit of concentration, moving along with his touch. But it's not that good. Not that good, or just not that sure; not like Kame hoped, and he feels stupid and clueless and he does it a few more times until he can let his hand trail away and not be weird, and when he stretches up higher and kisses Jin on the mouth it's not deep, not strong at all, but Jin makes a soft humming sound and it's better.

When Kame raises his head, Jin is giving him a curious little smile. And Kame's still wondering how he can judge this better and if he's got any right at all to even expect— when Jin sneaks up and kisses him right back, brief and dry and kind of cute.

And Jin's hips are shifting just so, Jin's erection still there and from the way Jin is looking at him Kame's very welcome to move, and Jin… Jin liked a lot of this, Jin's not hating it, and Kame's not helping Jin either if he gets caught up in his own head.

He balances to lean over Jin farther, to reach more of him, and Jin's eyes are on him, all dark and encouraging, and he gives a pleased sigh when Kame brings his mouth down on his shoulder.

Kame closes his eyes, focuses on nothing but touch and taste and scent and the way he can hear Jin breathe, the way Jin's body is relaxed under him, the way Jin says—

"Is it okay if I touch you too?"

He freezes, blinks his eyes open at the skin underneath him. How could he not have noticed. Not have remembered.

"Of course," he says and hears himself breathless – thoughtless, brainless – what must Jin think of him now? "Of _course_ ," he repeats as if that could make it better, propping himself up and meeting Jin's eyes to say _sorry_ and _please_ and—

Jin smiles, wide, and reaches for Kame's hips and pulls him down, tight against his own, and there's a little wriggle when he says, "Good."

It's a fast hot rush and Kame hears himself gasp, hears Jin laugh quietly. Jin moves a palm slowly up his back and Kame feels the heat crawl up his spine, hotter than just Jin's hands should be until they come to rest below his shoulders and Jin pulls him in tight again.

"Kiss me some more?" Jin says.

Yes, Kame thinks; yes. And he does it, and Jin laughs again in a smushed sort of way and Kame's not even sure why. But it doesn't matter, it's good, and Jin letting his hands move like he wants them to is wonderful, Kame could hold still for this, just hold still and feel Jin's hands on him.

They're both kind of hard now and that feels even better, the tiny thrust that comes back when he allows himself to push a little. He makes Jin gasp with a hot open-mouthed kiss right below his ear, and Jin's carding distracted fingers through his hair.

So he dares more; more pressure, more intent in his mouth, and Jin's getting excited and a bit sweaty and his hands stay there, holding connection, soft in his hair but firmer on his back. They say it's okay, it's _hot_ when he sucks on a spot at Jin's neck; they hold on when he thinks he's getting too heavy.

They move with him when he moves down, on a slow trail of kisses; Kame wants to squirm into their touch, but when he concentrates there's all this skin waiting for him. When he glances up, Jin is biting his lip again and focussed but in the _good_ way, the shivery way, and Kame tries licking a nipple. It gets a little harder, and the other one, too, and then Jin sucks in a breath when Kame moves lower and puts his mouth on his belly, right where it gets soft and vulnerable.

"Hmmm," Jin says, with a little hitch that Kame can _see_ right there, under pale sweaty skin; and Kame's head goes light when he wraps his hand around Jin's cock because he hasn't done this since Souji, but he knows how good it can feel and he wants Jin to feel that way.

He licks his lips and bends his head, and then he barely hears Jin's sharp little breath when he takes him in his mouth, because for a moment it's almost overwhelming – a taste he can barely remember and the cut-off little thrust, and it's been so long he has to _think_ how to do this, work out the angle and when to breathe and listen for cues under the pounding of his heart. He wonders what Jin will like and sucks cautiously a few times, and when Jin's grows fuller between his lips it's different but totally exciting.

And Jin's getting into it, with his hips bucking and his hands— his hands on Kame's hair caressing, and calming, and… reluctant?

Kame stops; slowly. Tries not to feel like a fool, not let it sweep him under this time. Jin's telling him things. Jin can't tell him things if he freaks out every time. "It's not… you don't like it?" he says, with a stupid hitch in his voice, and his mouth still feels hot even though it wasn't much.

"I…" Jin is swallowing, but his hands are moving again, drawing tickling trails on Kame's shoulders. "I like it. But do you have to be so far away?" And there's a little pull against his back, too soft almost to notice.

Kame can go with that. "No," he mumbles, and, "sorry," and finds his way back up, not looking at Jin, but then Jin's hand is in his hair again and not pulling but guiding, and there's another kiss and that really, really helps.

"No, it was good. It felt good," Jin says, all low and breathless and like he's not lying. "Just right now… I'd like this better. You up here."

Up here. Where Jin is pulling him closer, where Jin's hands find the small of his back and there's a low little squirm, and Jin smiles when Kame finally settles and lies flush against him.

"I liked this," Jin says, with his breath warm on Kame's mouth. "I like the way you touch me."

Kame slips his hand up to Jin's neck, leaves it there because he can feel Jin's heartbeat. "I'm glad." The room feels smaller around them, small and secret like the close space between them. "I like it too." He lowers his head for a kiss to Jin's chest. "I like it a lot."

There's a shiver under his lips, and Jin's hands holding him tighter with sure little circles. "Good."

"And you feel really good," Kame says before he can think too much about how he's said things like that before to Jin and they were no better than insults. This is different, and he likes saying it, and Jin is smiling while they rock to the little rhythm below, the nudge and give where they're both turned on.

"You feel really good too," Jin says, and Kame is a slightly embarrassed but a lot pleased, and he's even more pleased when he looks at Jin and Jin's eyes are dark and dazed and he's licking his lips, leaving them full and gleaming and kissable.

Kame leans in. "I love your—"

No. Not that, even now; it's too much. And Jin probably hears it too often, even from people who aren't out to hurt him.

"You're beautiful," he says, to cover up, hopes it's general enough. "I like looking at you, I like it when you're…" Hot and excited, and not scared this time. "I mean, not like… I don't mean…" He doesn't even know what he means, and he thinks he's fucking up again, only Jin's arms stay around him and keep him steady.

"Don't worry," Jin says, trailing his fingers up Kame's spine in a playful path. "You can look."

Kame feels himself turn red, memories creeping over him. "I didn't mean it like— not like a show. I didn't mean that."

But Jin ignores the reminder. His fingertips are playing at the nape of Kame's neck now. "I like the way you look, too," Jin says. He hesitates just a moment. "You have really nice shoulders."

"It's okay," Kame says, flushing for real with the thought that after everything, Jin now thinks he has to give him an ego boost. Jin's shoulders are much more impressive, anyway. "You don't have to say that."

"Really, though," Jin insists, his brow furrowing. He strokes over Kame's shoulders as if double-checking. "They're nice. And I like your arms, too, they're all toned and stuff."

"Really, you don't— Jin…" His voice sounds weird, weird and needy but he can't well tell Jin to shut up, and then Jin's fingers touch his face lightly and when he looks up Jin is wearing a thoughtful frown. "Really?" Kame asks, and his voice is still as bad.

"Yes, really," Jin says. After a moment he nods to himself, quite seriously. "And I like your hair when it gets all fluffy like that." He brushes the strands back from Kame's forehead only to watch them fall back into place. Probably good he got that haircut, Kame thinks, fuzzily, and Jin's eyes are on his face still, steady and pensive. "Your nose is kind of weird," he adds critically. "But I guess you know that."

And then he stops; everything stops, even his hands, and he blinks at Kame like he can't believe what he just said, and Kame… Kame can't believe it either. Jin means it. Jin thinks he has a funny nose.

Kame laughs; a shaky exhale that goes deeper when the worry drains away. It echoes through the mattress, through them both in little tremors, and the stillness fades from Jin's face, too, Jin is breaking into a smile. Yes.

"Yeah, I know that," Kame says after a moment, his head light like he just came up from under water. "Thank you."

"Thank me?"

"Yeah, for… you know. The nose is important. I'd never get any serious roles without it." He tries not to giggle; he's probably being goofy enough.

"Hmm," Jin goes, with a deeply deliberating pout, and he wriggles his hand between them and runs two fingers down the ridge of Kame's nose, right there where it was broken when he was in junior high. "You prefer serious parts?"

"Sometimes," Kame admits. "I mean, I've done some very good romances but…" He bites his lip when Jin squirms against him but Jin's still all attention, waiting seriously for his answer. "I just get fed up with being cast as the pretty eligible hero next door."

"Hm." Jin wraps his arms around Kame's chest and pulls him down a little, and it feels surer, very decided. Then he breaks into a grin.

"What?" Kame asks, though for once he doesn't mind not getting it because Jin looks so pleased.

"Other people might have this conversation over dinner." Jin's fingers slide into Kame's hair and pull him down, Jin's mouth opening for him and there's tongue and heat and Jin pushing up, and when they break it off Kame is panting a little, relief and arousal all mixing and swirling around them.

"Or after sex," Kame considers breathlessly. "I guess you're right. I'll amend the schedule for next time."

"It was just an observation," Jin says peacefully. "I like being unconventional." And he's still hard, and it hits Kame all over again that Jin likes how Kame feels on him. "How do you feel about…" Jin moves with a bit of suggestion, and he must be feeling Kame's erection just like Kame can feel his. "I'm not sure what you like. What would you like to do?"

This, he wants to say. Being close, doing it right. Jin making fun of his nose. "I'd like to do what's good for you too," is what he says, and he trusts Jin to know how he means it.

Just for a moment Jin goes still, a dawning focus in his eyes but his fingers stay in Kame's hair, and then there's a blink, "okay," Jin's voice low and calm, "yeah," and yes, he gets how Kame means it, it's not… bad or presumptuous.

And Kame moves close for more kisses because they've worked that out by now. And the rocking works too, the little rhythm that Jin's making as much as he is, and he can feel Jin smile but when he opens his eyes, some long sweaty moments later, Jin is merely looking.

"What would you like?" Kame asks, keeps it low, so low Jin can answer in secret and that thought makes him flush again, only Jin looks like he gets it, holding Kame close, whispering back.

"I liked that." He runs his tongue lightly over Kame's lips, and Kame likes the sound of his voice, how Jin gets raspy and low.

"And… for more? What do you want us to do?"

He doesn't want to push, but Jin looks thoughtful, and Kame meant it, they can do all sorts of things, so many things that'll be good if Jin wants them.

And Jin is thinking, taking that time. His tongue runs fast over his lips. Then he says, "Put your fingers in my mouth."

It's not what Kame expected. But it's good that it's new and surprising; it ought to be.

He lingers for a moment, just touching Jin's face. And Jin's eyes are soft but alert, and when he reaches Jin's mouth his lips are parted. Kame can't resist teasing, a small brush of his thumb from above to Jin's lower lip, and one day maybe he'll be able to say how much he likes Jin's mouth and Jin will know how he means that, too.

Jin's tongue darts out, wet, a quick demanding flick, and they both laugh a little and then Kame rests two fingers on Jin's lower lip and lets Jin suck them inside.

For a moment it's still funny, and then it's a sudden rush, Jin watching him with the heat closing around his fingers, and he can feel Jin's tongue moving around them, and slipping between, and he's not sure he's supposed to find this so incredibly hot.

But he doesn't quite lose it, focuses on Jin, who's slipping into dreaminess and lets his mouth go all lax for Kame to stroke the wetness over his lips, careful with pressure, breathless as Jin closes his eyes.

Jin likes to play, likes a little rhythm when Kame dips back inside, and when he sucks hard once he's almost grinning; he likes what it's doing to Kame. And then it all goes slow, like Jin is concentrating; long soft licks and always the wetness swirling around. They're both breathing harder, their hips pressing together, and then Jin slows down altogether, eases off, saying… yeah, okay. Kame smiles and pulls back until only his fingertips rest on Jin's mouth, which is darker and gleaming and it's hard not to pounce right there, with the way Jin is looking at him.

Jin is shifting, and Kame adjusts for Jin's legs moving, a slow spread…

"I think they're wet enough."

Enough. Wet enough… Kame's insides flip. Enough—

"You mean for…" He trails off weakly. Not much else Jin can mean, with that.

Jin regards him calmly; like it's good, like there's nothing to guard against here. Like he doesn't even need to blink. Jin's legs are long and relaxed and moving to make a little more room for him. "You know I like it."

God. Yes, he does. He can see it through the cold fog in his mind. He knows Jin likes it and how much, and he knows how to make it work, too, and…

He swallows hard. Jin's telling him things. "If you're sure," he says, as scratchy as anything because he doesn't know how Jin can want that with him but he can try, if Jin's sure, he can totally not be a bastard and Jin _looks_ sure and aware and—

"Unless you don't want to," Jin says quietly. "I mean, if it's not your thing…"

"No," Kame says quickly, feeling stumbly on his knees but he shuffles back, "it's fine, totally fine," all the words wobbling around but at least they're true, he's so glad that's true, he wasn't vicious enough to do something he hates just to fuck with Jin.

With Jin's help, he gets in a better position, and Kame grabs a sachet of lube from the nightstand just in case, just for later, and he's just wondering about whether he's held them up too long when Jin takes his hand and lifts it, for a last wet lick. His eyes stay on Kame, not wavering, not nervous; Kame is so nervous the feeling gives him goosebumps this time.

But he can do this. He can get it right. He puts his other hand on Jin's thigh, stroking gently, shy little circles. He means it.

He makes the strokes move underneath when Jin pulls his feet up, doesn't hesitate. If it were lube, he could take it slow but like this he can't, and Jin knows it too, Jin is opening up for him as much as he can and giving him an encouraging smile, his chest rising faster as Kame feels his way along.

He doesn't take his eyes off Jin for a moment, and then he's got his fingers where he needs them, where Jin wants them, and they're still wet and he'd better… he pushes.

 _Now_ Jin blinks, a few times, fast, on a sharp puff of breath; but just as Kame gets worried he closes his eyes and eases into it, invites Kame in.

It's soft, and tight, and only just slippery enough; he moves as fast as he dares, all the way into the heat, tries to get a stretch while his fingers are still slick.

Jin is watching him again, and breathing, and there's a little smile.

Kame pulls back carefully. It feels almost clumsy because he's paying so much attention, and Jin is paying attention, and Jin moves to meet him just that tiny little bit that says… okay.

Okay. He can trust Jin on this.

Jin's still hard, and his legs holding tension, a rise and a shift and Jin's eyes stay open now, stay on him. Enough focus to burn, but Jin's with him, still liking it, meeting his fingers on the slide, and Kame only knows how quiet it is when he remembers other touch, runs his free hand flat along Jin's leg, and Jin shudders so hard Kame nearly pulls out.

"Okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," Jin says breathlessly, settling again. "Fine. Keep… keep going."

But there's not enough slick now, Kame feels skin clinging when he moves, and he's freezing up, focussing wrong because he doesn't want to hurt Jin, and Jin is waiting for him, and that's almost a frown…

"Is it…" He swallows dry; it's weirder when he's not moving, just… holding. "I think it would be better with some lube."

"Oh." Jin nods, swallowing too. "Sure."

Kame nods too. "Okay." He tries not to be sudden, tries not to think of weirdness. Jin's eyes are following him as he finds the sachet again and tears it open, and he still doesn't think about weirdness; it's good Jin is watching and knows everything Kame's doing.

Can probably see Kame is nervous from how much he's put on, he thinks, settling again. But more is good, more is useful.

So he can do it longer. Get deeper.

He sits and stares, with the memory crawling up his spine and Jin open before him, open and tense and waiting, like he's ready. So ready he'll jump at a loud noise.

Kame is careful when he puts his other hand back on Jin's leg, and Jin merely draws in a breath. Kame strokes a little. Circles again; small ones.

"I could get a bit closer, too."

Jin blinks; but even as he's thinking he's easing under Kame's hands. "I'd like that," he says.

It takes some arranging, but that's easy too, to stretch out more beside Jin, resting low enough he can slip his fingers back to where they're wanted. Jin's stomach dips with a shaky breath, and Kame bends down to kiss him there; the next dip is a soft laugh, and Jin's hands are on his back again, Jin's hips opening out for a little more room, and with the lube it's easy, slippery smooth.

He leans in more, and drops his head again, swirls his tongue around Jin's navel along with his first pull out. Out of the corner of his eye he sees that's working for Jin. He pushes harder with his tongue when his fingers slide back in, and Jin gasps a little.

Nice.

"I like this," Jin says in a thick voice. "I like feeling you."

Kame likes it too. He finds a rhythm, a gentle slide while he lets his mouth wander, as far as he can reach, along Jin's chest and down to his groin. Jin's hand stays steady and light on his back, not guiding, just keeping connection, letting him know this is okay.

A bit of a funny tangle, he thinks, but it works, it's _close_ , how they're wrapped around each other, and when he looks at his hand between Jin's legs he feels a slow arousal coming back, just a faint prickle stirring underneath the warmth.

He rests his head on Jin's stomach for a while, and Jin's hand starts to wander on his back, up and up, and for some moments they are almost still, the only movement Jin's fingers playing with Kame's hair, Kame's fingers moving inside Jin.

He could stay like this. He could stay like this for a long time.

But he gives himself a push; he meant to do more for Jin. He tries to get the gasp again, between his fingers and his tongue, and when it works he feels it all the way down and in his reviving erection. He raises his head to share a smile with Jin, gives a teasing little thrust against Jin's thigh.

Jin looks dazed, and wrapped up in feeling. He nods approvingly and his arms go tighter, and Kame holds his eyes on the next pull back, takes it slow, feels around for… yes. He touches very lightly and Jin shudders, goes tense.

Kame stops. Waits to know whether it was too early or just wrong, waits for _Jin_ to know what should happen next.

He doesn't move and the wait seems endless but that's nonsense, Jin is already breathing again and nodding at him. "It's good," he says, on a shaky stutter.

Kame feels sweaty with relief, and suddenly clumsy even though he's right where he was, and it's hot and Jin…

"Do it again," Jin says, and his voice is still rough but he's pushing back, he means it.

So Kame does it again, just as cautious, and he doesn't take his eyes off Jin for a second. But Jin's bucking against his hand now, deepening the angle, looking for more, and there's a sheen of sweat all over him, his eyes fluttering shut on every push, and he's hot like this, so hot and beautiful, and Kame is starting to wonder what he would look like coming like this under his hands.

There's another tight breath when Kame brushes past the spot again, and Jin bites his lip, and then he's slowing. Kame slows down with him, into shivery stillness.

Maybe Jin was wondering too.

"Do you want me to… How do you want to do it?" Kame licks his lips, still uncomfortable asking even though he's sure Jin gets him by now. "What would you like?"

Jin considers him, for another quiet moment, with those dark eyes, thoughts coming through beneath the bliss and Kame can't tell what they are, good or bad, can only guess and the guess isn't good, not when it's him in the bed here. And maybe he wants to help Jin past hesitation or maybe he's afraid of what will happen if Jin thinks too long, and he says, "Tell me, please," just as Jin says, "Fuck me."

Kame stares, just long enough for Jin to grin. "Please," he adds gravely, and then laughs at himself.

"Well, if… in that case…" But Kame's brain is still too fuzzy for jokes and he's too glad anyway, glad for everything, Jin telling him things and enjoying himself, wanting things. "Sure," he says, "if you're sure," like an idiot. Jin doesn't hold it against him.

He pulls out carefully, sorting out his limbs to move up and get stuff, before he gets back in the space between Jin's legs and Jin looks expectant, looks pleased.

Kame takes a breath. There's no need for fumbling here, nothing complicated; this is easy, this is _normal_ , and here he is, with Jin.

"Go on," Jin says.

They can do this together.

Still it takes him two tries to tear the condom sachet open, and he wills himself to calm down, focuses like for a take when he puts it on and then he's ready, and Jin's ready and helping to move them, and from there it's easy.

Kame closes his eyes when he lets himself sink inside.

Wonderful. Hot, and tight, and wonderful… He tries a slow thrust and it's slick and easy and good, that feeling of something perfect he knows, with… anybody. Anybody, and suddenly that's not what he wants because this isn't anybody, this is important and he doesn't want to miss it.

And when he opens his eyes again he's so, so glad, because Jin is watching him, and maybe he was waiting. 'Hi,' Kame wants to say but that's silly so he doesn't, just smiles and tries another thrust, just as slow, letting them both feel every bit they're coming together, and Jin lifts to meet him for the angle he wants. Back, and again, they do it again until there is a rhythm, strangely peaceful, easy.

"Touch me," Jin says, and Kame nods at once, doesn't wait for the "please" that makes them both grin and just puts his hand around Jin's cock, working it into the rhythm. And he knows this, he can make it good, and then Jin wraps his own hand over Kame's and Kame's hips jerk hard, it's that hot.

"Like this," Jin says, pressing a little harder, easing up at the end of the stroke. "I like it like this."

Yes. Like this. He can remember this, he can _do_ this, and even when it's harder to think beyond muscle memory it feels good, it feels _great_ , just to have Jin… Jin helping him and showing him; and then Jin's hand falls away.

"Now make me come," he says, meeting his eyes, and Kame feels another surge but he keeps control, keeps it steady while Jin stretches his arms back, his hands open on the mattress. And Kame goes with it, with the tiny signals of Jin's body that ask for more speed, more force, and there's a moment when it clicks in place and Jin arches and his eyes flutter shut and from there, Kame doesn't know how long it takes, how long he moves inside Jin and Jin moves harder in his hand; Jin is biting his lip, their breaths shallow and fast until Kame feels it, knows _now_ and there's Jin going tense, shining, soundless, shuddering and coming over Kame's hand, and then everything goes still.

Kame waits it out; he's got time, he can give Jin time. He can feel Jin's orgasm around him, can tell when its ebbing, and just when he thinks Jin might open his eyes again, Jin does. Kame swallows, oddly vulnerable; there's something secret underneath the daze that makes him feel swirly and nervous and like he wants Jin to reach for him, which is absurd when they're like this.

Then Jin's look gains focus again, and a pensive sort of satisfaction, and then he takes a settled breath and Kame knows he's ready for him.

Kame goes deep at once, and it's easy, and two strokes in he's _sure_ Jin's good with this too, Jin's comfortable and Jin wants to _see_ him – and then it doesn't take much, Jin's long lean body moving with him and urging him on, to do it, let go and just feel, and he hears himself moan on the last hard thrust and then it sweeps over him.

He knows how wired he was when it seems to flow from all his limbs, every stretch of his skin, a slow drain that leaves everything mellow and shaky. He brings them down with sweaty hands; holds on to Jin long after the shudders have passed.

They've done it. He takes what feels like the longest breath of the night, and he can't quite keep it silent. They did it and it went right; it was nice.

Eventually he has to let go, though he does that slowly, reluctantly. He gets rid of the condom and wipes his hand quickly on the sheet. He can clean up in a minute, get Jin a towel and some water and all that, but just now he doesn't want to go away. It feels warm all around him, like they don't even need a blanket.

When he flops down on the mattress, Jin catches the bounce and smiles over at him. His arms are still heavy on the bed, his hands above his head. Dark strands of hair are sticking to his forehead. He looks as boneless as Kame feels. Down below their sprawling legs are touching.

Kame curls in a little on his side and he can't help smiling; his body is humming, but that's almost normal, that's the sex, nice sex. More importantly there's Jin; Jin pleased and relaxed, and Kame still feels that chasing around under his skin, a glow that won't settle.

His lids go heavy with drowsy blinks, but he keeps opening his eyes to see Jin. Any moment he'll find words, but for once he doesn't have to worry. Jin shows no sign of wanting to move. His head is turned towards Kame, and his trailing gaze feels as warm as the air, until it rests on Kame's face.

"I'd like you to let me put my head on your shoulder," Jin says. "And then I want you to play with my hair."

Kame's brain is slow; too slow for his pulse, a loud tight thump. He blinks faster, waits to realize where he heard wrong.

Jin seems to be smiling. "Please," he adds.

Things Jin likes. They're doing them.

That. That's a thing.

And easy, really, not much he has to do or can get stuck on with his useless stunned brain. Just roll on his back, and… and stretch his arm out, like this, yes, that wasn't so hard, right…

Jin is much smoother, turning and shifting closer, and then they fit just like that and Kame's heart is still pounding with confusion when there's weight and warmth and Jin's head settling. Right. Right, okay. It feels different, and kind of nice.

The shampoo again, right under his nose, and a little more sweat. Jin smells good, too.

Hair. Playing. He shouldn't forget that. He raises his hand; his fingers catch a little on the first brush, because Jin's hair is messy and tangled at the back. But Kame is careful. Lets his fingertips trail, and thinks this can work.

There's a soft slow exhale; Kame can feel it in Jin, where he's sinking heavier. Jin's hand is resting lightly on his chest, just beside where Jin's pressed up against him.

Kame wonders what he's thinking.

But he doesn't ask. This is good; this is restful, and they can both do with the stillness. They can take this moment. He can lie here and feel Jin's weight, let his hair run light and silky through his fingers.

He doesn't keep track, just lets it last. Jin is heavier than Midori, like this, but it feels good, and then he stops thinking.

Eventually Jin takes another deep breath; Kame can feel his body gathering direction, before he lifts a bit and rolls away again.

"Nice," he says quietly.

"I'm glad," Kame says.

"Hmm." It's a vague acknowledgement without any sting.

"I know you'll have to go home soon," Kame says. "If you'd like to shower here…" He reminds himself that he's decided he can be smooth." You'd be very welcome."

Jin is propped up on an elbow now, looking down at him, looking untroubled by the reminder. "I'd appreciate that," he says.

Kame sits up. "Please, go ahead. You know where—" Oh god.

"—the towels are." Jin nods. "I won't be long."

It takes Kame another moment to feel confident in his coordination. He sits and watches Jin leave, catching Jin peeking over his shoulder before he disappears around the corner. Only then does he move to the edge of the bed. It's the good kind of fatigue, though, bathrooms or not, and he closes his eyes for a moment, smiling stupidly to himself while the water starts moving in the pipes.

Right.

It takes him a moment to hunt up his boxers. He's not cold, nor shy about his body, but, well, Jin's going to be dressing and Kame doesn't want to feel like a flasher. He pads into the kitchen to wash his hands, then pulls on a black t-shirt, too. Finally he picks up Jin's clothes from the floor and drapes them over the edge of the bed. Underwear on top, socks on the side.

Jin might like some water, too.

He's just getting out two bottles when the sound changes. The hairdryer. That's good; Jin found it. Looked for it, because Kame forgot to tell him. Again.

The clock on the cooker says they're five minutes past the end of their date.

With Tatsuya, he always stayed in bed longer, and they'd have a drink there, sometimes even after the shower. Now, Kame ends up standing next to the sofa, realizing he doesn't know where he should sit to wait.

When Jin comes out, he's wrapped in a large towel. His hair looks a little puffy, half-dry and half a mess.

"I put your things on the bed," Kame says. "And here's some water if you'd like."

Jin smiles his thanks and nods. He smoothes his hair over with his hands before he drops the towel, and Kame distracts himself unscrewing his own bottle. By the time he has taken his first sip, Jin is back in his boxers, and the smooth skin of his chest is disappearing as he buttons his shirt. It's silly of Kame to want to reach out and touch it again.

And anyway, his time is up.

"I'd like to see you again," he says to Jin, before the thought has even finished in his head. Jin looks up quickly from the final button. "Very much. I mean, I'd like… if it's okay with you."

"That's okay with me," Jin says easily. "Very okay." He turns to pick up a sock and starts to pull it on.

"Would you be okay with a rest?" He feels shy, standing here with his water bottle, but he's hopeful anyway. "Just, I like to… I don't like to rush."

"Yeah," Jin says. "Taking it slow is…" He glances over at the bed with a little smile. "Nice." Then he nods. "A rest would be fine." He reaches for his trousers.

"Great." Kame nods, too, even though Jin can't see. And he tries not to look too out of place or too anything else while he waits, because it's his apartment and at least he knows he's being silly.

Rests. Next time. It's a whole different sort of relief.

Then Jin is dressed, smoothing himself out again, straightening like he's ready for outside. Kame takes a step and hands him his bottle.

"Thanks."

"Thank you," Kame says. "For the evening. And everything." For this chance. But it wouldn't sound right out loud.

"My pleasure," Jin says before he takes a drink. There's still warm colour in his face, from sex or from the shower, and with his hair so unruly, his eyes sweeping down along the bottle, Kame feels another wave of attraction.

They'll have next times.

Because for now that's that. Jin is looking around for his jacket and bag. Kame wonders absently how other people deal with comforts when there's so much awkward standing around, but it doesn't really matter, he can deal with it, Jin's dealing with it, too, and now Kame can walk him to the door.

And there's something terribly weird about standing barefoot and in underwear watching a guy put on shoes and a coat. But it's okay too, Kame thinks, wriggling his toes a bit.

"Ready," Jin says when he's done, straightening up.

"That's a really nice coat," Kame says. "You look really good in it."

"Well, it's warm," Jin says, ducking his head a little, and then there's bows and goodbyes and Kame asking a pointless question about the trains after the fact, and Jin says it's all good, it's still early after all, and then Jin steps outside.

"Good night," he says. The night air catches Kame on his naked legs, makes him feel shivery and aware. The outside light throws a soft glow on Jin's face, and it's a beautiful picture.

"Good night," Kame says, and then Jin steps back and the door closes, and then he's alone.

Alone with the gentle bed lights and the quiet of the air. With dinner stuff on the table and his sheets in a tangle, and a damp white pile of cotton where Jin left the towels. With the scent of sex still on his skin.

And it's all good.

Even better than he'd hoped, when he was hoping at all.

Maybe he should stop looking back at the door. He wants to laugh when he notices how cold his feet are getting, only his feet don't really have anything to do with it.

Anyway.

He picks up Jin's towels and drops them in the hamper on his way to the shower. Notes in passing that Jin has put the hairdryer back on the high shelf with its cord wrapped tidily around it. And then he stands under the shower, too, soaping himself off and thinking that he didn't fuck up.

He hasn't felt so good in weeks.

He wonders if… if he hadn't asked about next time, if this would be that. Because he didn't fuck up and he feels less weird thinking of making a date with Tatsuya or Takuya, or going to the club, now that he knows that. He could have played it safe, leaving it at this.

But he asked. Because he'd like to see Jin again, and Jin was fine with it and that feels even better.

He stays in the shower for a while, enjoying the nice strong pressure and the heat that makes him sleepy.

When he's towelled off, he grabs a bathrobe and wraps himself in tight. He puts some music on and starts to clean up, just a little – puts away the food he wants to keep, throws out the rest, clears the table for breakfast.

The candle's burned down, he notices when he picks up the sauce dishes. He's vaguely amused with himself now, how overboard he went with the various options. But it worked, Jin found something he liked. Maybe next time they can order together.

It's a good thought. Briefly, while he stacks the plates for the dishwasher, he remembers the other clean-up, the clean-up last time, with the shame hovering over him, but he pushes it away. Tonight was different.

When he's done, he dims the lights even more and settles on his bed with the samurai script. He's looking forward to this one. He's looking forward to work. He leans back against the headboard, propping up the script with tired, relaxed limbs.

It's a nice evening, and he doesn't want to go to sleep just yet.


	29. Chapter 29

### Saturday 06 December

Jin bounces down the stairs from the client floor to their own, showered and styled after his assignment with Yamatani, minty toothpaste fresh in his mouth. The usual easy date and now it's almost ten, and he might just go home early because he's done damn well this week already; the usual appointments with Yamatani and Karube, Sakurai back for a comfort on Friday, and three days ago his second date with Kame, which earned him more than the three comforts this week taken together.

It went as well as can be expected, he thinks. Everything they do still seems like a question with several wrong answers and he's not sure which of them finds it more exhausting. He can't help being tense, and he gets the feeling Kame is worse but despite all that, it was still less fraught than their first date… the first one that counts. They'll get there, and it's no wonder that it'll take time, for both of them. Their next date's on Tuesday.

As soon as he's through the door on the staff floor he can feel something's up, a tension in the air. When he passes the elevator, the doctor who does their tests and who checked him out at the start is coming out of Konoe's office, closing the door firmly behind him. He nods at Jin but doesn't stop.

Jin doesn't linger, walks straight past Ootomo's door and to the break room.

"Something up?" he says before he even looks around; and then he does look around and sees that everybody's on the hard chairs or propped against furniture except for Danny, who's lying stretched out on the couch which normally sits three and waving at him sluggishly. He's got a dreamy smile on his face.

"I'm up, dude, and I'm _so_ down with it, I'm all over it, that's what I am, know what I mean?" Then he giggles.

Jun and Masaki are shaking their heads in amusement. Jaejoong is looking glum.

"Is he okay?" Jin asks Jaejoong.

"I was okay," Danny says, "until I got in Konoe's office. And then I get pawed by that doctor with his filthy rubber gloves which don't feel nice at all, and then I get the fucking inquisition. 'Was there sucking? Was there fucking? Was nonconsensual intercourse engaged in while you were higher than a jumping kangaroo? How many fingers am I showing you, and where did I stick them yesterday?' Seriously, who wants to know?"

"Shut up," Jun says. "You're insufferable on drugs, I have no idea why anybody thought it—"

Danny? Drugs? "What the hell did you—"

Danny giggles and then he leers. Jin turns to the others. "He didn't… did he get caught—"

"Keep your pants on," Koichi says. "He didn't do drugs and he didn't get caught. Client roofied him, is all."

 _Is all?_

"Fuck," Jin says, because god, clients; fucking clients. He finds a place to sit, on the floor against the fridge, something. "And?" What did he do to him, why did he drug him, how many fingers… god.

"And nothing. He noticed in time, locked himself in the bathroom, called it in. Ootomo sent Mikami. Rumour has it the worst of it hit when they were already in the car, and now Mikami is no longer speaking to him."

"I'm horny," Danny says petulantly. "Stuff makes you horny. Anybody got ten minutes to spare?" He turns on his side and flutters his pale eyelashes at Jaejoong. "Would you like to sleep with me?" he says in horrible Korean.

Jaejoong looks like he's regretting ever teaching any of them those lines. The others look relieved to be beyond Danny's current grabbing range.

Jin goes to sit on the couch, where Danny moves back a little to make room for him.

"I see someone's volunteering," Koichi notes crisply.

"I'm sitting down," Jin says. He turns to Danny, takes his hand in a firm grip. "You fondle me, you die."

"Awww," Danny whines, but after a bit of wriggling he settles. "'M feeling sick," he mutters, just loud enough for Jin to hear.

"Did you tell the doc?"

"Yeah, he gave me some shot, said it'll go away."

Jin nods. "Don't puke on me, either."

"'Kay." Danny curls in so Jin blocks the light from his eyes and falls silent.

"Who was it?" Jin asks of nobody in particular.

"That bald lawyer guy. Ogyuu."

Jin's never had him, even though he's been around since before Jin came. Used to order out, mostly. Jin's got a vague impression of a short, thin man with greying temples, drinking Rémy Martin and flirting forcefully with Danny and… Masaki. Taking Masaki to a room. Jin throws him a look. "Could you see this coming?"

"Idiot," Masaki shoots back. "You think I wouldn't have said?" He's got tea on the table in front of him but he's not drinking it. "Worst you could say is that Ogyuu's never showed much respect for his whore of the day, but hey…"

He shrugs. They all know that's not unusual.

"Weird, though," Koichi says, "that someone suddenly… it's not like Danny's not up for some creative fun when he's sober, unlike some others."

Jin knows he's meant by that; he knows it's less about his nonexistent kink repertoire than Koichi's resentment that Jin hasn't backed off to give him a chance with Kame. Jin also doesn't care.

"Some guys do it for the power," Masaki says.

"The power to watch Danny roll around giggling and speaking bad Japanese?"

"And worse Korean," Masaki concedes.

"We all know that guys get off on the strangest things," Jun comments sagely. "Anyway, not our problem any more."

"He will be kicked out," Jaejoong states with great satisfaction.

"And have to go back to the streets or some cheap whorehouse." Masaki looks pleased. They all kind of do. At least it can happen to clients, too.

"Any idea who referred him?" Koichi says.

"Old Handa," says Jun. "He'll get his fingers rapped but he'll be safe. He's been coming to the club forever, they won't kick him out over that."

There's a knock on the door; knocking means it's probably Ootomo.

"Yes," Jun calls out.

It's Ootomo right enough, looking pissy and short-tempered as he gives Jin a look. "How's he doing?"

"Sleepy," Jin says. "Horny, and maybe a bit queasy." He looks down at Danny's curls, which have started bobbing in a sort of affirmative fashion.

"He can't stay here overnight," Ootomo says. "If one of you guys will take him home and stay with him, I'll pay the cab fare."

"I can take him," Jaejoong says. "I don't live far away."

"Good." Ootomo purses his lips, thinking. "Let's assume you miss out on a relaxation by leaving early," he adds grudgingly. "I'll pay for that, too."

Good for Jaejoong. And good for Danny, to be taken home by somebody who doesn't just find this entertaining. Jin doesn't get how the other three can just laugh it off; it could happen to any of them. He hates reminders of how vulnerable they are even with club security, how they have no choice about going to these houses and dealing with whatever they find there.

Though it worked. Security worked, and Danny got out, and he'll be fine. Maybe that's what the others are looking at, because it's more constructive than dwelling on the ways in which this could have been so much worse.

Jin's glad he already decided not to take another client tonight. He doesn't think he'd be good company.

"I'll help you and Danny down," he says to Jaejoong. Ten complicated minutes later, the three of them are in a cab which is going to drop Jin at Shinbashi station before taking Danny and Jaejoong on to Kachidoki. Jaejoong is handling Danny's backpack and the keys, while Danny is slumped between them and humming out-of-tune melodies under his breath.

 

### Sunday 07 December

"You left early last night," Yuuya says when Jin returns to the break room on Sunday evening. He's standing in front of the mirror with curling tongs Jin recognizes as Tatsuya's, twisting his hair into thick ringlets.

"Decided I was done," Jin says. "I made a lot this week. Didn't have to sit around for leftovers."

Yuuya nods slowly, tongs poised for attack on another strand of hair.

"Rest, right?" he says.

"Yeah."

Jin wishes Yuuya wouldn't look so thoughtful. He's got good reasons, but it brings up the questions and Jin's not doing so well with those.

"And three comforts," he adds. "So, well."

"Plenty," Yuuya nods. "I had some new guy last night. It was a comfort, but really late, he picked me up just as I was getting ready to leave. And he took the full three. By the time I finally got home, I think Taka-chan was getting ready to send out a search party – if not for me, then for food."

"Taka-chan?" Jin tries not to look too surprised by the familiarity. "You mean Takahisa-kun? You live together?"

Yuuya almost burns his fingers when he bursts into laughter. "No!" he says when he's recovered. "I mean, not exactly." He breaks into a grin again.

Jin doesn't mind. It keeps them away from more complicated thoughts.

"Taka-chan's my hamster," Yuuya says in the end. "I got her shortly after I started here. She's really cute." The laughing has turned into quiet giggles. "And likes to eat a lot."

Jin gets it. It's cute and kind of cheeky, and Jin tries to picture Yuuya feeding his hamster. He wonders what hamsters eat. "Does that work for you, with the job and all?"

"It's perfect," Yuuya says. "Taka-chan sleeps during the day when I'm away, and she's awake when I get home at night so we can play together."

"Where did you get her?"

"Oh, just a pet shop in the mall. She's not any special kind of hamster."

Jin didn't even know you could get special hamsters. "So she's… brown?" he ventures.

"Yeah, light brown." Yuuya looks at himself critically in the mirror. "I was thinking of having my hair done the same colour. It would be a little lighter than this."

"What's with the curls, anyway?" Jin asks.

"Some of the clients like to play with Danny's curls. I was just wondering if it might be a fun idea. Hey," Yuuya twists around, more focussed, "were you still here when they brought Danny in last night?"

Jin nods. "I left with him and Jaejoong."

"Ah, right," Yuuya says. "Last time I saw you was that time earlier in the lounge, when Nishikido-san and I were watching the match."

Jin remembers putting some space between them quickly. "You looked like you were having fun," he says.

"You should have come over when I waved. We weren't actually doing anything, and I know you kind of like him, too…"

"I don't really like watching soccer with clients." Jin feels weird saying it, but it's better than turning Yuuya down on lots of well-meaning invitations for future matches.

Yuuya looks bemused. "I find it pretty useful. They don't need so much attention because they're keeping track of the match. Makes the time pass more quickly, too."

"Hey," Jin says, and he manages a smile. "If it works for you, it works, that's great."

He wonders whether what they do works for Kame, who's always so careful now, when he never seemed the careful type even when he wasn't crazy.

The crazy is gone, like it was never there. Only sometimes Jin catches a way Kame has of looking at him, like he's searching for something and puzzled that he can't find it. When he sees Jin noticing, he just shakes his head and there's usually an apology, one that sounds like it's for more than just looking.

"—Junnosuke in the end," Yuuya is saying. "They both seem to get turned on by tax returns." He shrugs like he would about foot fetishists or cosplayers. "But he was only up for a relaxation anyway, and I got a comfort with Kei-chan instead, so that was all good."

"Kei-chan?" There's a theme here, but this is a client to boot.

"Uh…" Yuuya looks sheepish. "Koyama-sensei. Only he's so…" He shrugs. "Anyway, I don't call him that to his face. And I'm getting him trained up nicely, he doesn't need three invitations any more before he actually does stuff with you. And he's stopped blushing when he takes his clothes off."

Kame doesn't blush. Getting naked seems to be the one thing he's confident about when they go to bed. As for the rest… Jin knows he's got the brakes on, always; he notices the starts and stops of somebody who's used to doing stuff spontaneously trying not to. Three invitations could be where they're at, right now, if Kame didn't so carefully follow the roadmap they established for their sex that first time. He still asks once, and Jin's glad he does, even though his brain says this is stupid.

He remembers to nod for Yuuya, and then they both make for the door, ready for the lounge. Jin's got nothing booked, he'll just try his luck. It feels good not to have to be too worried by that. Things are easier.

With Kame, too, lots of things were lots easier; they actually managed to talk during dinner. But Kame was still careful to insist from the start that he didn't expect Jin to stay overnight, and careful at the end to let him get out well before the last train, cutting short their rest after less than four hours.

One round only. From what Jin's heard, clients usually get more out of rests.

"Want to check out Nakamaru and his buddies?" Yuuya says. Jin takes his first conscious look around the place, and he's got to admit that Yuuya has zeroed in on the best set of opportunities around. Only, Nakamaru…

"Really, he's not that bad." Yuuya has read his face correctly.

"I don't think we're compatible," Jin says.

"Maybe not for sex," Yuuya says, "but that's what his buddies are for. I'll take Nakamaru, we get on okay. Just come sit with us, he won't bite you."

That's easier, too. Jin produces a polite bow, Nakamaru and his friend acknowledge him with Yuuya and promptly invite them to sit, and when Nakamaru buys Yuuya a drink, Jin gets included in the invitation.

He makes sure to look amused by some of the man's jokes, and slowly, the atmosphere warms up in productive ways. Before he's noticed it, they're on a second round of drinks and Jin has some excited old businessman's thigh pressing against his side; when Nakamaru tells of life lessons learned when his conditioner was run over by a car, some of the businessman's drink ends up on Jin's suit and they decide they might as well freshen up in a room upstairs. Yuuya gives Jin a friendly little wave while Nakamaru hopes they will enjoy their conversation.

They both shower first, separately. After that, it gets pretty touchy-feely for a relaxation, but that's okay, the client knows what he wants, none of it is exceptionally unpleasant, and Jin's used to it. What's more unusual is that the guy wants the full hour, so after he's done they hang out a bit more, talk about the dangers of reckless driving, and Jin has a whisky to get the taste of come out of his mouth. He leaves the room after an hour, on the dot. All very correct.

It didn't feel like cutting it short, with Kame. They were done, too; they'd showered and sat all nice and warm on fresh sheets; they had time for another drink, to chat. About Tanaka, about Kame's delivery service, about tomatoes. Jin's drink was something Kame recommended when he noticed that Jin liked the dessert sweets; something like whisky except thicker and, yes, sweet indeed. And delicious. He licked the bottom of his glass when Kame turned around to send a call to voicemail.

The alcohol helps them both, Jin thinks. But he can see Kame is careful with it, and Jin never drinks more than the client.

They're both careful.

Funny to think sex is easier with some guy he's never talked to before tonight.

When he gets back to the lounge, Yuuya is still gone, and so's Nakamaru. Comfort, Jin thinks. Good for them.

 

### Monday 08 December

Kame loses focus sometimes.

Day one of samurai boot camp is taking place in an austere little dojo out in Kokubunji, run by a team that specialises in training up TV people for flashy sword fights. Kame was on time despite needing fifteen minutes to find a parking space. He came dressed in plain jeans and a black sweater, barely a designer logo in sight, and his sports stuff is black and not too washed out. He listened faithfully to the introduction of the dojo and the assistants and a little bit of the history of swords, feeling reassured whenever Kurosawa-sensei mentioned something Kame knew already from films or had memorized from his books, nodding along to the sensei's personal philosophy.

Somewhere while staring at the various wooden training swords, he lost the thread.

"Have you done any other kind of martial arts, Kamenashi-san?" the sensei's assistant asks, and he snaps back in easily.

"No," he says, making a regretful face. "It is difficult to find time for a hobby like that, with my job." He is a little embarrassed, convinced they only need to take one look at him to see nine-year-old Kazuya swinging sticks around pretending to be serious and scary. On the other hand, most of the people who come here for the regular kendo classes probably didn't get the idea while baking cookies. Best if he gets over himself.

"Ah, so this isn't your first film?" Kurosawa-sensei asks with a pointedly kind look, and Kame smiles his best student smile and says no, only his first one involving swords.

This is the kind of guy who looks like mountains will move before he'll be impressed by twentysomething film stars. He's in his fifties, lean and wiry with an oddly old-looking face.

He hands Kame one of the wooden practice sword, making a point of watching just how Kame holds it. "The balance is important," he says. "Balance is everything; your sword, your body, your breath, your mind."

"Yes, I see," Kame says, not really having a clue, but the sword feels nice. He tracks the way it circles when he flexes his wrist.

He's thinking of Jin again.

It doesn't interfere with work, or with his other responsibilities. But it's there, little glimmers of their second date, the one that worked well again, a hazy shine of something finally going right threading through his days.

Kurosawa-sensei calls on the assistant, and together they show Kame a basic routine that looks impressive enough, and then they show him again with the intensity dialled up, so it can look impressive on film. The principle is familiar to Kame; the camera eats things, thinning them out. He stays attentive, mentally gearing up for the kind of work that can make you feel ridiculous if you watch yourself from the wrong perspective.

But before they teach him anything else, Kurosawa-sensei hands him a sword – a real one, with a blade so sharp "you'd hardly feel the cut," as he puts it, smiling a deep leathery smile. It rather focuses the mind.

"Go on, get a feel for it," he prods, and Kame obediently raises and lowers the thing a cautious few centimetres; wiggles it around a little. He thinks this is to frighten him. It's kind of working.

The guy nods generously, his eyes clear like the steel of the blade.

Kame squares his shoulders. He's not squeamish, but the thought of slicing up his instructors because he had to act cool really doesn't appeal.

"It feels very impressive," he says when he thinks a comment is expected, and lets the sword sink slowly towards the ground.

The instructor seems pleased with that, or with Kame's reluctant tone maybe, but it works either way. The assistant looks on in quiet encouragement, and Kame wonders how often he's watched the intimidation routine and where Kame is falling on the wimp spectrum. It's vaguely uncomfortable not to know what he's doing, and do it in front of an expert audience , but this is just the way it is. They're all here for work, instructed by the studio to teach or to learn, Kame's getting lessons with an accomplished professional, and at the end of the film that will be that.

He's glad when the sword in all its antique deadly glory is out of his hands. He nods, ready for the next step.

Midori surprised him this Saturday by dragging him to the Edo-Tokyo Museum and an exhibition on household cooking in the Edo period. It could only help to get a fuller picture, she'd said, and insisted he should get out of the house, where he'd spent two days holed up with books and the internet, researching his character's background.

"Do you prefer a bokken to a shinai for beginners, or is this just because of the movie?" Kame hazards, trying to put the weight of every book he's read so far into a sincere look. Then for the flash of a second he's convinced that he mixed up the terms after all, until the instructor's watchful Buddha impression cracks with a quirk of his mouth.

"You know something about kendo practice?"

"I have done a little reading," Kame says modestly. "This is completely new to me, and I think it's important to prepare."

The man nods sagely. The assistant, a man with black-rimmed glasses and hair dyed a cautious brown, gives Kame a shy smile that seems designed to slip past Kurosawa's notice. Kame notes it for later.

They insist he learn some real moves before they show him what will look good and authentic on camera. It sounds vaguely plausible, and he knows they're the experts and he's not. He can follow directions.

Tomorrow night he's seeing Jin again.

It seems fast when he looks at a calendar, because he knows there were longer gaps with Tatsuya and Takuya-san. But it feels right not to leave it too long. Everything's still new and tentative now that things work differently; now that they _work_. It's almost like they have catching up to do, and Kame is glad he doesn't have another week to worry or second-guess himself. Jin likes it better when Kame can string five words together without blushing, too.

They had more time on Wednesday than on their first date. Their first… their first real date. He's not forgetting the others, couldn't forget if he wanted to, not when the horrible details still ambush his mind at random. Two nights ago at ten, he had to stop in the middle of rinsing his coffee pot and almost called the club to apologize to Jin for that time with the wall and being _pleased_ he made Jin come without caring for yes or no.

It helps him breathe easier to remember Jin knows it's different now, too.

The assistant gets him to swing the sword around in a routine that really does make Kame feel like he's seven and on a playground, and this can't possibly be the real thing because he doesn't feel in control of his moves at all. But his mentor seems confident.

His shoulders are feeling the strain by now, and his thin black t-shirt starts to cling under his arms. Kame likes that, though; it feels like progress, evidence of a serious effort. His feet tap smoothly on the mats. He gets an approving nod for holding his sword upside down dramatically.

It all still worked, all the things that worked the first time. He made sure Jin got home early too. Jin wouldn't ask for that, but Kame didn't want a rest so he could start a sex marathon; he just wanted more time. Time to talk and to feel relaxed, and to do it all properly.

Even now, he doesn't dwell on the sex much. He doesn't want it to feel like some jerk-off fantasy – and it isn't, not with how easily he gets worried and how much he still has to ask.

But Jin didn't hate it; Jin was fine with Kame doing the things Jin likes again, and Jin looked really beautiful.

It was so nice to have that. It'll get nicer still when they know each other better and Jin will know that Kame doesn't expect a seductive show or wants Jin to feel cold just for the pretty display.

"How long have you been working with Kurosawa-sensei?" Kame asks while they're taking a break, sprawled on the floor with a water bottle each. Kurosawa himself is outside talking on the phone. His ringtone is the portentous sound of a temple drum.

The assistant seems hesitant, as if he's surprised Kame's not sitting in a corner being unapproachable. "I think it's been five years," he says. "I like the teaching. I'm Nishibashi, by the way."

"The people who come for sports, or the clueless actors?" Kame asks, smiling.

Nishibashi grins, though he tries to hide it. "Actually, the actors make for a nice change," he admits. "It's usually not as high-profile as you and your movie, with the people who come here. But I kind of like seeing it on TV later, you know? And go 'ah, I taught him that!'"

"Yes, 'and this is the one where he always fell on his face'?" Kame suggests, and they laugh.

"I don't know if that works for girls," Nishibashi says.

"I'm sure it works, it makes you sound really cool," Kame says. Then he frowns with deliberate thoughtfulness. "Of course, it'll make me sound really uncool, so I'd better try not to do that."

Nishibashi is shaking his head like the idea of uncool Kame is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard, but he's not starstruck. It's a good atmosphere.

They talk about the schedule this week; Kame is alone today but on Thursday he'll start training with his co-star, a quiet guy in his thirties who's playing his first villain role as Kame's antagonist and who is a good deal taller than Kame.

Midori teased him about that as they were looking over the exhibits on Saturday, and they almost attracted attention when he poked her in the ribs after one particular comment about platform shoes.

That had turned out a very nice afternoon. They strolled through the exhibitions in refreshing peace, Kame's hat and sunglasses doing their job, and afterwards he took Midori out for an early dinner. He'd missed talking to her; just talking, without worrying. The museums were good for that, and when she wasn't teasing him, Midori had fun speculating about the lives of samurai wives.

Nishibashi has a girlfriend who's into martial arts herself. He sounds shy when he says it, as if Kame will find that objectionable. Kame finds her admirable, though, and they chat for a bit, very companionably and easily, and Kame never gets lost enough not to know where they are in conversation.

But he's got Jin on his mind. Jin's weight on his arm after, almost sleepy. Jin under a sheet, finally relaxed and choosing warm feet over some dutiful exhibition. The next date, and what they'll pick for dinner.

Then Kurosawa comes back inside, and it's time to get back to practice. It's work, but fun, and a good kind of strain. He'll sleep well tonight.

He still feels careful when he imitates their moves, because if he has to be a beginner, he hopes he can be at least a not-too-stupid one. But these guys really are nice, and even when flashy turn sends him stumbling into accidental seppuku and they can't help laughing, it's not really so bad.


	30. Chapter 30

### Tuesday 09 December

It got late. Kame doesn't have an early start tomorrow, so they took their time, first over dinner and then in bed, and Jin has his eyes closed, Kame's fingers curved around his hip. He feels tired and slack and almost like a normal person.

Kame holds him without asking now. They both think so much, about now and about before, Kame being careful, Jin wondering if Kame is holding back. But in these moments they don't have to.

Kame  feels strong like this. The glow's still in his skin, his heartbeat slowing. Jin can feel it where he's listening. His own body is woozy, his skin tingly and distant. But that part's familiar. This isn't; this is new, or just old or different and he's missed it.

"Are you warm enough?" Kame asks, so quietly there's no rise in his chest.

"Yes," Jin says just as quietly, "fine," and Kame's touch makes sure anyway, moving slowly and warm up his back, coming to rest between his shoulderblades.

He could stay like this. Fall asleep when Kame smells warm and of them. Only he can't. But he can let it last a little longer.

It's easier now, when they know how they fit. When Kame doesn't take so long to breathe and settle and Jin is less mindful whether his head is too heavy or where to rest his hand.

Kame's hand is moving into Jin's hair, the way Jin likes, and Jin blinks lazily.

Those tiny nipples. He grins. They're kind of cute.

He still wonders if they're always sensitive, or if it depends on mood. Maybe he can find out next time, or the time after. Once Kame dares to be spontaneous, trusts himself to do the right things. Not to do wrong things.

He didn't do anything wrong when it counted. Jin gave him every chance, and he didn't.

Jin closes his eyes, strokes Kame's chest with just the tips of his fingers. Exhales slowly until there's nothing in his head but all that Kame did right, all the ways Jin was right.

He doesn't have long now. They're cooling down, and in a minute, Kame will offer Jin a shower, and later a drink, and then he'll make sure he doesn't so much as throw a carnal glance at Jin while they hang out and chill.

It's kind of stupid. But Jin's not complaining about chaste chilling and tales of samurai sword practice, at all.

 _*~*~*_

Kame's shower is really complicated. Even now, when he's used it several times, Jin has to think about what he's doing with all the knobs and sliders after Kame helpfully 'set it to manual'. Kame explained it to him in detail after their last date, and highly recommended the rain shower head and some pivoting body spray.

Jin doesn't want to think about settings, he just wants a quick rinse, a formality more than anything else. If Kame's own settings were anywhere near sane, he'd just use them, but he tried that last time and found that Kame apparently likes to be assaulted by his bathroom installations.

"It works wonders for a sore back," Kame said when Jin expressed his disbelief. And then went through an explanation of all the settings again.

This time, Jin makes sure to tune everything to a bearable level, raises the temperature a little, and then he soaps himself off quickly. He considers not washing his hair because it's such hassle to set, but then does it anyway.

Next, wrapped in a towel and standing in front of the mirror, he considers simply not drying it. But this is an assignment, this is a client waiting outside, and Jin ought to make himself as presentable as he normally does. He can't get… sloppy. He can't get sloppy or anything else.

Ten minutes later he's done, putting Kame's high-end hair-dryer back on the shelf and throwing a generally pleased look around. At least Kame is no longer nervous about mentioning anything to do with bathrooms. That's a good step.

Outside, Kame is waiting for Jin with a smile, perched on the edge of the bed. The bed has a fresh new sheet, just like last time, part of the routine too. Jin hasn't seen that before, but maybe it's normal on rests; some guys might be that fussy, some might do it to be polite. Jin can't be sure what category Kame falls into but polite is probably a good bet.

He'll relax more, though, Jin is sure. In time, it won't matter so much if something goes less than perfect.

"Did everything work all right?" Kame asks, getting up.

"I'm getting the hang of it," Jin says, smiling back, and then he remembers. "Oh… I made it hotter. You'll have to set that back."

Kame nods quickly. "Sure, thanks. No problem. I'll just go…"

"Yeah." With a bit more time, Jin might wish Kame luck battling his bathroom. Now he just nods back.

"And… you know. Get comfortable," Kame says, indicating the freshly made bed. "Please." By now it sounds natural, no longer like desperate hospitality.

But he still gives Jin a lot of space when they pass each other and makes sure not to look at his naked chest with too much interest. Jin wonders if he should say that looking and touching is allowed, or if that would make things awkward again.

For now, he lowers himself onto the side of the bed, sneaking a look in the process to catch the last glimpse of Kame disappearing into the bathroom.

When he's dropped the towel and settled on the bed with the covers pulled up to his waist, he wonders how long they'll make it last this time. The week before, he stayed for less than an hour after cleaning up. Kame really didn't seem interested in any more sex. Jin's not sure if that's nervousness, too. It's an awful lot of money for just one round.

He still feels warm, and now he's glad he's dried his hair because he can lie back for a bit without getting the new sheet wet, and listen to the sound of the pipes. He smiles at the ceiling. Kame and his weird shower.

*~*~*

Their drinks are the same, too. Jin has no complaints about that, because whatever it's called, it's possibly the nicest thing Kame has served him so far, and Kame has good taste overall. Jin sips slowly, because it's not just sweet but strong, and he tries not to make any small ecstatic noises because that would be rude.

Kame has a plain whisky – a very small shot, and he's taking it slow, too. Leaning against the headboard, he's pulling the light covers up over his groin. As he's settling, their feet brush together, and for once Kame doesn't apologize. Maybe it's okay when it's by accident, or out of sight.

"Do you have a busy week ahead of you?" Jin asks, because it's normal, and not suggesting anything but friendly interest.

"Not very," Kame says. "I'll have most of the weekend off, and the promotion for the samurai movie hasn't really started yet."

"I'm glad," Jin says, and almost blushes because he wasn't thinking of dates but it sounds like that out loud.

Kame gives him a small smile. "Yeah, me too. But it'll get busier again once we start filming." He stops to think with a tiny focussed frown. "I'll be spending a couple of weeks on location in January. They're recreating an entire early Edo village for us in Hokkaido."

Jin winces a little. "That's far away."

Kame turns his glass a couple of times. "I'll probably fly home one weekend, to see— my wife, she's called Midori."

There's nothing useful Jin can say to that, so he just nods, and takes another sip of that delicious stuff.

When he looks up again, Kame is facing him, looking like he'd rather not. "She's nice," he says. "I really like her. Just…"

There's any number of ways a practiced escort could respond; it's not an uncommon situation to have a client mention his wife, though they usually do it to complain.

But Jin still doesn't know what to say. All he has is questions, and he can't ask them. Not yet, if ever. "I guess it would be easier if you didn't," he says, because that's what Kame's expression makes him think, and then he wonders if that was too much, too intrusive.

But all Kame says is, "Yeah," and he thinks, and then he turns to his whisky again. "Anyway," he says, "Hokkaido. January."

"Winter," Jin contributes helpfully.

Kame gives a small laugh. "Cheer me up more, why don't you."

With anybody else, this could be a cue. Jin downs the rest of his sticky drink while he tries to figure out whether—

"Not like that," Kame interrupts his thoughts. He doesn't sound panicky or tense, only like he's just figured out what it sounded like, too. "I meant it, last time," he adds, and when Jin meets his eyes he's got that serious face again. "This is just… for relaxing. Both of us. I don't usually… This is just nice."

No more sex coming up, no seduction required; Jin gets it.

"Okay," he says. "So, tell me more about your samurai?"

"At this point, he's still learning to hold a sword," Kame says. He shakes his head with a little laugh. "I had my first training session yesterday, and you should have seen me. It was like a comedy routine."

"You fell over?"

"Not completely, but I came pretty close a couple of times."

Jin up-ends his glass over his mouth while Kame tells him about kendo for beginners, to see if any more sweet drops will come out. Eventually, when Kame seems absorbed in trying to remember some step sequence, he turns sideways a little and runs his finger through the glass, licks it off.

"Are you licking the glass?" Kame sounds amused.

"Um. No," Jin says. "Well, not exactly." He wriggles his toes in embarrassment, then realizes they're still touching Kame's leg. "Sorry."

Kame is laughing now, though Jin can tell he's trying to keep it low.

"It's a nice drink," he defends himself, and grins back when he can't help it.

"Well, we do have more," Kame says. "Can I get you another one?"

Jin hesitates. But it's getting too late for the subway anyway, so he won't be walking by himself in the dark. Being tipsy in a cab isn't dangerous. "I'd like that," he says. "Thanks." He doesn't suggest he can get up himself, he's learning; and Kame looks really pleased when Jin just hands him the glass.

There's a draft of air as Kame slides his legs out from under the covers and heads for the liquor cabinet. Jin leans back a bit, watching without staring.

Last time, when Kame said he wasn't expecting stuff now, it was about the sheet. Jin doesn't cover up with most clients, not when they've paid for their time and their time isn't up, but it was nice that Kame was clear even though it's never really cold in here.

"So how many hours of training do you get for this?" he asks when Kame comes back drink in hand.

"I have another half-day at the dojo," Kame says, "and one of the trainers is coming along to the location for the fight scenes, too." He raises a very well-groomed eyebrow. "It'll be a whole new picture once they put me on those crazy period sandals, too." He sits and scoots back to just where he was.

Jin remembers Shota's crack about heels, but it's not his place. And those sandals would scare him too. "I hope they give you some time to get used to it," Jin says, and then realizes that's probably a stupid thought because producers and directors won't want their main actor to break his legs.

And then he starts a little, at a painful screechy noise coming through the wall somewhere, like someone drilling holes. At this time of night?

"Oh," Kame says, reading his face. "My neighbours. Pulling in their awning."

"Ah," Jin says, in a lowered voice.

"No, it's not like that." Kame almost laughs. "It's just that one thing, that's all I ever hear of them." He's contemplating his drink with a distant good humour. "It's got worse over the months, I should send somebody round with some oil. They must be going deaf right next to it."

Jin has another sip of his drink; it's still quite full, but it's getting late. Kame might want to go to bed. Though he's not looking tired so far. "The house is quiet?"

"Yeah, I made sure… I like it quiet."

"Yeah, quiet is good," Jin agrees. He looks around, at the softly lit walls, the long blinds everywhere, and then back at Kame… who's followed his gaze and something has chased out the amusement, as if he's thinking Jin's making a statement on his secrecy, when all Jin is thinking is that it's pretty normal you don't want the world to watch or hear you when you're sleeping with somebody.

"It's cozy here," he says. He kind of wishes they touched more, so he could reach over and show Kame he means it in a nice way. "I like your place." He tries a smile instead, nodding at the blinds. "And the cat can't spy on us."

Kame has relaxed again, the vague tension resolving into a smile. "Yes, that's why. I cat-proofed the place."

"But your balcony's out there, right?" Jin points towards the glass doors beside the last kitchen shelf.

"The bit I use, yes. It goes on around the corner; actually all the way along the house, you've probably seen that."

Jin nods. It's where the stairs lead, and now he remembers the neighbours had a chair out in front of their door.

"We've got a trellis with a jasmine between my part and theirs, but I don't use the front."

"You go out on this side? It's private?"

"I wouldn't go out naked, but otherwise, private enough."

Jin nods again, and then he has another sip of his drink. Kame sips his whisky, too, and it goes quiet. Jin shifts his toes. It's a thin cover, but nice and warm anyway. Eider down, maybe, Jin's heard of that. Their eyes meet, and Kame smiles a little. Jin wonders if it's time to finish his drink.

"Would you like to see it?" Kame asks into the silence. "I mean, do you want to go out?"

It takes Jin a moment to make the connection to the balcony again, but he gets it before he has to ask. "Yes," he says. That sounds like fun. "I mean, if you're sure—"

Stupid; of course Kame is sure it's safe; and they're hardly going to put on a sex show out there when they aren't even touching in here.

Kame's smile gets deeper. "I'd like to." He swings his legs over the side of the bed, putting his drink on the nightstand.

Jin keeps hold of his glass, and then realizes that it feels sillier when you're standing and naked.

But the nudity's ending here anyway. Balcony is clothes zone.

He looks at the clothes he draped over a chair, the jacket Kame put on a hanger for him. All kind of formal and complicated, but he didn't bring anything else. Rests are still new and he never thought to pack differently for them. He certainly didn't factor in balconies.

"Do you want a bathrobe?" Kame asks, considering the pile with Jin's silk shirt on top, too. Then he bites his lip. "I don't have a guest one, but mine's just washed."

Tatsuya probably packs a smarter bag.

"Or, I mean, I could also…" Kame trails off, and Jin catches up with what's actually going on, the actually important stuff.

"A bathrobe would be much more comfortable," he says.

Kame gets it from the bathroom. "I really haven't worn it again, I just hung it up," he says, as if Jin would mind that much. Then he goes to the wardrobe where he puts on a tracksuit. That one is black.

The robe is thick and very soft. It's maroon with dark blue, not like the club's at all. Jin breathes in the detergent scent, pulls the belt nice and tight, and sticks his hands in the pockets.

Kame brings their shoes back from the hallway to the balcony door, too. That makes sense, near midnight in December, even if they haven't had a cold spell yet.

"Thanks," he says again, and they smile at Jin's shoes, which look shiny and way too serious on his naked legs.

Kame is wearing sneakers, nothing mismatched there. He flips the handle on the balcony door, lets Jin step out first. "I hope the weather hasn't changed in the meantime."

"No," Jin says, blinking up at a clear sky. "It's quite nice, actually." Then he wishes he'd made that funnier, but Kame looks satisfied.

They step out a little further, and Jin tries not to make noise with his shoes on the wooden planks. The air is chilly around his ankles but the bathrobe is warm enough for now.

Kame peers past the railing as if he thinks he should give an introduction. Below them is the entry to Kame's garage, and beyond the high privacy fence and the hedges there are some dark buildings, which Kame explains are more warehouses. After that, the city lights start again, and Jin thinks he can see some of the love hotels before the buildings get taller and taller.

"You can't see very far," Kame says. "But not many people can just look in, either."

Jin nods, totally in support of that. There are screens a few meters to the left and right, and the shadows of plants visible through them, blocking off random visitors if they somehow manage to miss the main door. Kame has a chair out here, together with a small metal table. In the dark, Jin can't tell if the plant with little pale flowers on top of it is well taken care of or just plastic.

"Are you out here a lot?"

"Sometimes, yes." Kame puts his free hand in his pocket, too. "Well, not so much in December. But it's nice to get some air even when I come in late."

"I like that floor," Jin says, nudging at the planks. "It's kind of… it reminds me of temples."

"Actually, that's where I got the idea," Kame says, with a glance over at him and then at his feet. "I didn't just want concrete, and… I was at this event at Kiyomizudera while they were fixing up the house and it gave me ideas."

"What were you there for?"

"Just a photoshoot." Kame seems to think of something. "But with a famous… There's a well-known photographer I like a lot. It was actually interesting besides the design tips." He nudges at the planks just like Jin did. "Though those weren't too bad, either."

Kame's right about that. This is a very cool look. "Is it hard to maintain, do you have to polish it?"

"Watanabe-san does it," Kame says. "My cleaning lady. But she has a machine for it; she doesn't have to do it the traditional way."

It goes quiet again. Jin steps next to him at the railing, resting his arms there and looking at the low row of lights leading the way to Kame's garage, the way they light up the underside of the shrubs. He lets the drink burn in his mouth again. This is pretty cozy, too.

"Are you warm enough like this?"

"What?" Jin starts; he was lost in thought. "Yeah, I'm fine." He lifts his glass with a smile. "Keeps me warm. Also, this is comfy." He strokes down the arms of the robe. "Nice and thick."

Kame smiles. "It suits you."

It's such a harmless statement, Jin wouldn't have noticed it, if it wasn't for the fact that it's the first time Kame has said anything that could even remotely be read as a comment on Jin's looks.

Jin smiles back. "I like it."

But Kame has noticed, and the next bit comes rushed. "I didn't mean it like that, I just… sorry."

"For what?" Jin asks very lightly. "For giving me a nice bathrobe?" He rolls his shoulders under the thick, fine-woven towelling cloth and tries to look extra comfortable. Kame's still uncertain so Jin smiles again, without the silly acting now, just lets Kame see it's really okay.

"Next time I should maybe bring something to wear besides the suit," he says. Now he's just as much out on a limb as Kame, and he just holds the flicker of uncertainty and has a little drink, and meets Kame's eyes again.

"Maybe a good idea," Kame says. No more. But he stops standing all stiff, and then he's leaning forward against the railing again. They watch the lights, calm and peaceful.

"You know," Kame says then, "I meant to say earlier, you don't have to wear the suit on my account. If you don't want to. Normal clothes are fine."

He's looking out at the city, sounds almost casual.

"Are you sure?" is the first thing that comes to Jin's mind, because he can't figure out the signs. He knows it happens, to guys who know their clients well, who hang out and go places with them. Not him; his other regulars are comforts and Jin doesn't spend a lot of time dressed. So this is good, really, except it seems complicated again, like everything between them; even a thing like suits is complicated.

But Kame simply nods, very seriously. "I mean, it's a nice suit. But I don't expect it. You should wear what you like, suit or not." And he gives Jin a shy little smile.

"But what about your neighbours and everything?" Jin doesn't stop to think how bizarre it is that he's the one raising the questions.

Now Kame's smile grows real. "I trust you not to come dressed like you're going to drag me out for a hard night's clubbing."

"I won't," Jin says, and doesn't care that it's not very witty or clever. He likes that easy look on Kame, likes that he's confident enough to joke. And yeah, okay, he likes not having to do that kind of dress-up, too. "Thanks."

Kame shakes his head, "No need," and turns to lean back against the railing with his elbows braced. "Oh." He blinks. "Sorry, I forgot… think that could be the time after next?"

Time after next. Jin wriggles his toes in his too-shiny shoes. That works too. "Sure. You've got special plans for next time?" he asks, and even dares a bit of teasing.

"Not really, just… would you mind meeting at the club next week? I'd quite like to meet up with Tanaka-san."

"Yes, of course." Jin's feeling more daring by the minute. "From what he sounded like last time,  you'd better not leave it too long, anyway."

Kame laughs. "I am! You are completely right." He leans his head back, gazing up. His nose is really noticeable in profile. Maybe one day Jin can ask how that happened, too.

He finally looks away; looks up as well, because there are actually some faint stars there Kame is watching. "Nice," he says. "Don't get to see those in Ginza."

"Yeah, too bright roundabout," Kame agrees. "Plus, those tinted windows." He leans back a bit further, and Jin remembers he said he used to be afraid of heights. But this isn't high, and Kame looks at Jin with no awareness of the drop. "That's a nice thing about filming in out-of-the-way places. You see millions there."

"Something to look forward to in Hokkaido, then," Jin says.

"Go stargazing in January, instant icicle. Come see your frozen actor here."

Jin laughs. "Yeah, I guess." It's getting a bit chilly on the balcony now, too; but he doesn't want to break the mood. "I never got out of the city much."

Kame nods quietly. The light from the door makes his face seem soft. "It can be nice."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He thinks; of the right things, nothing that will trip them up now. "Where I grew up, pretty much all the lights except the streetlights went out at ten. You could see a little more there." The thoughts lurking there, of nights and stars and warm jackets, just pass, don't pull him away. Good.

"Where was that?" Kame asks, carefully but expectedly enough.

"Chiba; on the outskirts of Narashino." Jin leans against the railing again, the metal stealing the warmth from his hands. "Pretty nondescript."

"Ah," Kame says. "My parents' house is in Machida."

Jin would ask if he visits them a lot, but that would be inviting the return question. "I hear that's a nice place," he says instead. Pretty much the opposite of Narashino not just in terms of the compass.

"It's pretty nondescript, too," Kame says with a slight smile, "but there's a park with nice cherry blossom. I played baseball there." Then his eyes skim the bathrobe again. "Speaking of freezing, do you want to go back inside?"

"Do you?" Jin asks back. "I'm okay."

"You've got goosebumps." Kame lifts his chin.

"You can see that?" Jin didn't even notice. He looks down and it's true, the hairs are all sticking up on his legs. "That doesn't take much, though," he says, slightly embarrassed.

"Let's go back in," Kame says, pushing himself off the railing. Looks like goosebumps override even the usual cautious double-checking. "Get you under a sheet."

"Yes, okay," Jin says. That works for him, too.

 _*~*~*_

Kame picks up another one of his remote controls, or maybe the same, and does something that Jin suspects is turning the heat up. Somehow he feels the chill more now that door is closed, and he appreciates the prospect of warm covers.

His body is starting to feel slower, heavier, and before they get back on the bed he wonders for a moment if he should leave so Kame can sleep. But Kame asks him if he wants socks and brings him some water, and then they end up talking more about Tanaka, and the parties Kame gets invited to. Jin's kept the bathrobe on, and his feet under the covers are warming up quickly, too. It feels good.

"Better, huh?" says Kame, who must have been watching him. He looks not much of a film star in that tracksuit and with his hair looking like he's slept on it. Though of course you'd still notice him, with his face.

Jin nods emphatically.

Kame plays with something invisible on the edge of their cover. "You know," he says slowly, and it sounds light but his body language says it's not, and Jin wonders what's coming. "…if you don't want to go back out and get cold again, you don't have to."

Jin quickly turns that over in his head a few times, but there's really only one thing it can mean. "You want me to stay?"

Jin didn't even bring a toothbrush.

"It's not… you know, a request," Kame clarifies, for once acknowledging their position without any fuss. "I understand people wanting to sleep in their own beds. Really. I was just thinking, if you'd like. You'd be welcome to."

Jin stares for a moment, but then stops because he knows that might freak Kame out. "Sure, I could do that. I mean… I'd like that."

Better escorts would do this… better. Even ones who'd prefer to leave. He has no doubts about that.

"Really," Kame repeats, and Jin can tell he's heading for guilt again. "You don't have to. I just thought—"

Jin thinks fast and pulls the cover up to his neck in a bad show of huddling. "Now you've said it." He tries a smile. "Can't kick me out now. Where it's cold. With cats."

Kame blinks at him, and then he laughs a little, and it sounds good; relieved. "Okay. I'll… uh… promise to try not to kick you at all. I think I'm a well-behaved sleeper."

"I think I'm okay, too," Jin says. He hopes it's true; he doesn't remember Naoki ever complaining. On the street he knew how to sleep quietly, in some corner with all his clothes on. "Uh, I didn't bring anything to sleep in. Or… I guess I might not need it?"

"You'd just get cold," Kame says, and then he goes still. "Oh. Oh no, I don't mean that. I'm not keeping you around for that."

It's not as outlandish a notion as Kame makes it sound; clients like that kind of thing.

"It's your right," Jin says. "It's not rude or anything."

Kame draws in a breath like he's about to say something vehement, but then he stops, shrugs. "I know that." He smoothes over the duvet where he's been playing with it, before he puts his hands flat on the bed. "I'm sure I can find a t-shirt for you."

Jin nods. "I'd like that."

"I'm not planning to jump you in the middle of the night, either," Kame declares. "In case you were wondering."

Jin hasn't even got that far yet. But it's a reasonable assumption, and really, there's no reason Kame shouldn't…

"I wasn't wondering," he says. "And anyway, it would be fine." That should be clear, too. And with a normal rest like this, it's relaxations only in the morning. Kame's been with the club longer than Jin, he's got to know that.

Jin knows Kame likes blow jobs, but Kame has stuck so closely to his safe route…

Kame gives him a long look. Then he nods. "Noted."

*~*~*

Somehow they end up talking about sleeping. Kame tells him stories about catching naps on set; learning to sleep while people are doing your hair, and what his favourite corners are so he doesn't end up on photographs slack-jawed and drooling. "Um, not that I drool much," he adds, and Jin makes a semi-challenging face that makes them both grin.

After Kame's failed to suppress the third big yawn, he smiles at Jin a little sheepishly. "Time to turn in?" he asks. "Unless you're still feeling wide awake."

Jin wriggles against the sheet drowsily. "Do I look like I do?"

Kame laughs. "Okay." He gets up, a little woozily, and wanders over to his wardrobe. Stares inside it for a good long while, then gets out a blue t-shirt and puts it aside. Next he drops to his haunches and rummages in a bag or something, and when he emerges again, he's found a toothbrush which is still in its wrapper. "Thought I had one," he says, turning to Jin. He holds out the toothbrush and the t-shirt both. "Here."

Jin accepts gratefully. "I'm sorry I didn't…"

"Hey, it was my idea; how would you have known?" He stands for a moment like he's trying to think what's next; he must be pretty tired, too. "You can go first," he says then, indicating the bathroom.

It's weird to be doing this with a client. A first for Jin in any case.

Though there was one guy… Jin didn't go places with guys anymore, not if he could help it, but sometimes in the winter, when they wanted to take him to a hotel, the thought of heating and a hot shower made him throw caution to the wind. There was only one who offered to let him spend the night because it was freezing outside; an okay guy probably, not even all that creepy, but he remembers being too nervous to sleep anyway.

Brushing his teeth doesn't take long. Jin drops the bathrobe and changes into t-shirt and his boxers while Kame is in the bathroom, and then he waits for Kame to pick his side of the bed. Predictably, it's the left, near the bedside table with the alarm clock.

Kame wears just boxers. "I don't like to wear much… I don't really get cold. Does it bother you?"

"No," Jin says quickly. "It doesn't, not at all."

Kame picks up the alarm clock. "I need to be away by nine. If I set the alarm for eight and make breakfast while you get ready, we should be able to make that. Does that sound okay?"

No morning sex on the plan, then, either. Jin can read subtext. "Okay."

Kame gives him a look with the remote for the lights in his hand. "Ready?"

They aren't touching. Not even a little.

"Ready," Jin says.

Kame's look grows a little bit stern. "We _sleep_."

Jin bites his lip and tries to look solemn. "Understood."

The lights go out.


	31. Chapter 31

### Tuesday 16 December

Kame hands over his coat and his camouflage and tries not to seem in a hurry, takes his time stepping up into the club proper, and only briefly fusses with his hair.

It's a slow day, just busy enough that you don't feel on display coming in. He looks around, noting the handful of clusters.

When Kame came in for a date with Takuya or Tatsuya, they would at once excuse themselves from the group they were with and come to meet him with a welcoming smile.

Jin isn't with a group.

He's waiting, alone, by the bar. His hair is falling forward into his face as he leans over a drink of water, tapping a beat on the glass with his fingers. There's no mistaking him. Kame feels a surge of client shyness but then he quashes that determinedly, just smiles.

Then Jin sees him. He all but jumps off his chair, before remembering decorum.

Kame nods and keeps his hands from doing any brushing or tweaking on his clothes. He came from work, but he took care this morning when he picked it all out. And he should probably stay here. That's what he's always done and it's not strange. Right.

Jin starts smiling halfway there.

"Hi," he says then, and bows. The distance feels weird, even though it's quite normal. "It's good to see you."

"Thanks," Kame says. "Um. For waiting." At the apartment they have slippers and coats and the weather.

"I hope you had a good drive."

Kame notes how elegant he looks and how he's not quite comfortable, shifting his weight under the stylish suit. "It was fine," he replies, and nods for emphasis. He wants to say he had something to look forward to; he's pretty sure he said that to Tatsuya and it was flattering.

"Good," Jin says, and then like he's just remembered, "And I wasn't waiting long. You're really on time."

"I'm glad," Kame says. "I had interviews today… sometimes there's retakes and things."

"I would have, though," Jin says quickly. "Waited, I mean." He casts a look around the club, not at all flirtatious.

Kame feels just as sheepish. "Thanks. But. I mean, I don't like being late," he says when he pulls it together, and it sounds like an apology even though he doesn't need one. They smile uncertainly at each other. Then Kame remembers how this goes. "May I buy you a drink?"

Jin remembers too. "I'd like that. Where would you…"

"Would the bar be okay?" Kame says on impulse. He knows Tanaka has noticed his presence, and Kame has identified the old enka singer and Ryuuhei with him, and Shota cozy by his side. But he wants just a few more minutes to find his balance with Jin before plunging them into conversation there.

By the time they've ordered and tried out their wine and beer respectively, they've established that Kame has had a good week in which he met some of his new co-stars and managed not to kill the villain of the piece prematurely during kendo practice, and that Jin had sore muscles from too much work-out on Friday. Kame is starting to relax, and Jin has stopped tripping over his words. It's almost like at home, roundabout dinner time.

"Tanaka-san is over there, by the way," Jin says with a very light nod in the general direction. "You wanted to meet up with him, didn't you?"

"Yes," Kame concedes. He turns his head, but Tanaka's playing it discreet. He's got a lively crowd there, as usual. Somehow he always manages to be a moodmaker; or maybe it's his choice of company, too. "If you don't mind? Just for a while…"

Before they go upstairs. But he doesn't want to say that now.

Jin fondles his glass and gives him a crooked smile. "Of course I don't mind."

They each take another sip of their drinks before carrying their glasses across half the lounge to the couch arrangement currently home to a passionate discussion on… vegetables, Kame realizes.

Tanaka has been watching them approach. "Hey!" he says with a bright smile. "I was starting to wonder if you were scared of Shota's rap rhymes. Sit down, sit down. Hello, Jin!"

The enka singer greets them politely, while Junnosuke vacates the remaining two-seater for an armchair with no comment.

So they sit down. Each neatly on his side of their couch.

"Have you joined the gangsters then?" Kame picks up on the cue because he feels he should, and Shota laughs.

"Not yet," he says. "I don't think I'd pass the initiation rites."

"Rites," Kame says while he feels Jin settling a bit more comfortably. He gives Tanaka a mock-stern look. "Is that what the broccoli was about?"

"Hey!" Tanaka looks scandalized. "Don't go giving me a reputation, Shota's not going to talk to me anymore if he thinks he has to eat broccoli."

"Oh, you meant _eat_!" Shota says, then grins."You know I'm flexible."

"Sure, as long as it's got nothing to do with leek," Tanaka says, and of course they missed that part of the conversation; Kame doesn't get it and neither does Jin, and they briefly smile at each other. Junnosuke says something about knowledge leaking out.

Then Tanaka sits up a little straighter and makes a face. "Oh, I'm sorry, you have all met, right?"

Kame nods along when the enka-singer mentions that the two of them drank together a while ago, though he can't for the life of him remember the man's name. He's saved by Ryuuhei, who notices the singer's dainty swirl of his almost empty port glass and asks if Hashimoto-san would like a refill.

Everyone knows Jin, and Jin seems fine with where they've landed.

"Are you filming yet?" Tanaka asks him, unsurprisingly, so Kame gives him a quick summary on the state of his sword practice.

"I'm going to start working on a samurai film in a few weeks," he adds for Hashimoto, who seems moderately impressed.

"I may have read something about that," he says. "I'm very fond of historical films, I have to say. But I always think it must be difficult to prepare, if you're going back in time in such a way."

"Oh, he prepares," Tanaka says before Kame can take up the unspoken question. "He studies for this stuff. Sometimes, you know, I feel like a bit of a slacker." That last bit is addressed to Jin.

Kame laughs nervously.

"I'm sure it's a lot of work to be in the music industry, too," Jin says, which has Tanaka and the enka guy shaking their heads and waving it off and sharing a glance of complete agreement on how busy they really are.

"Tanaka-san has to dance, too," Hashimoto says. "Whereas my audiences are usually more on the settled side."

"I don't know," Tanaka grins. "I suspect your fans can be pretty hardcore too."

Jin is smiling at the suggestion of raging middle-aged housewives. Kame thinks Tanaka is probably right on the money.

Hashimoto starts on a story of his last tour. He has a pleasant speaking voice to go with his soft gestures, and it's not a hardship to listen to him being self-effacing about stage mishaps.

Jin is listening too, until Kame feels his focus shift, and he's looking at somebody, he's recognized… the laundry guy. Yamatani.

And then Jin notices Kame's noticed, and Kame doesn't even know _what_ he feels… but he's freezing up and if he didn't freak Jin out so far then this might just do it. Whatever he's supposed to do, he'd better do it quickly, and he says, "I was just going to order another glass of wine. I think it's a vintage Yamatani-san would like. Should we ask him to join us a bit?"

Jin blinks, once. And Kame can see him _thinking_ , and now he's glad he said something. Because he's not sure Jin would have.

"I think he'd like that," Jin says eventually, like it's very long words.

He'd like that, because he didn't notice what was going on between them back then. He'd like it because he doesn't know what Kame said about him later, and Jin knows that, too.

Jin's expecting him to be sane this time.

He's so wide awake suddenly he doesn't know how he can do this without being awkward, but then Yamatani looks up from exchanging greetings with someone and meets his eyes, and so that's… that's pretty easy, just wave, no need for a big production because they're not that familiar and being rude would just…

Yamatani smiles and takes a step in their direction.

Okay then.

He turns to Jin, because he will be normal, and he won't pretend last time was normal. And Jin's still thinking; Kame's stomach takes a little dip. But he smiles, and then he smiles for Yamatani too when he's there.

"Good evening, everyone," Yamatani says, as the others take a brief break to greet him back. "Good to see you again, Kamenashi-san. Hello, Jin. Are you having a nice evening?"

"Very nice, thank you," Jin says. "I hope your board meeting went well?"

"Oh, it was perfectly dreary, just as expected."

"I don't want to interfere with any plans, but we were wondering if you'd like to join us for a bit," Kame says, all nice and fluent. He gestures at the remaining seat with a clammy hand.

Yamatani agrees gratefully and Jin smiles and nods when Kame tilts his head at the empty beer bottle. All good. Kame is doing well.

"How are you doing, Yamatani-san?" he asks when the waiter is gone and nobody has taken the initiative.

"I can't complain. I had a busier week than usual, but then it keeps you fresh, doesn't it?"

Kame says the things one says to agree, and Jin leans back on the sofa and asks about the house.

Jin seems okay.

Yamatani is smiling, saying, "I haven't had a water outage in three days, so perhaps the crisis is over. The house does look rather interesting from the outside. Like a very large cardboard shack with foam taped around it."

It feels strange to look at his old friendly face and know he goes to bed with Jin, and not exactly comfortable… but the moment Kame thinks it it takes him back to last time, with Yamatani, and that's so much worse.

Jin turns to him, and he holds his breath and tries to look innocent. Like a guy who would never have a fit because Jin has other clients, like a guy who's definitely not crazy like that.

"Yamatani-san is having his house renovated," Jin says, calm. Cautious, maybe. Kame can't tell. "For energy conservation."

"It was a bit troublesome when they dug up all my plumbing," Yamatani says. "But the glaciers will thank me, I'm told. And I only have to live another twenty years to see a financial offset."

Jin smiles a little. "Kamenashi-san has some experience with plumbing incidents, too."

Being so focussed on being fast and sane and adult must clog up Kame's brain, because it takes him a moment to process… that that is a really good, low key invitation. And Jin's eyes are on him and clouding over uncertainly, and he finally remembers that conversation.

"Oh," he says. "Yes." Then he gets his brain to assist his mouth. "I had an old warehouse converted into an apartment building. And when they planned the pipes, well… it was all a big mess." Jin has heard this and Kame feels a twinge of embarrassment for that, too. But Yamatani nods sympathetically at the story of the valve burst, and offers a recommendation of the company he is using should Kame ever need any more work done, and then they spend a little while exchanging their best nightmare contractor stories.

Sometimes Kame checks, but Jin seems relaxed. Smiling quietly, drinking his beer. Kame winces in sympathy at what once happened to Yamatani's sculpted shrubs, but doesn't mention the azaleas and his tenants' moving van two weeks after the house was finally finished. He's wondering already if he sounds too much like he's in a contest.

"Didn't the people in your house run over your azaleas with a truck?" Tanaka butts in, and Kame feels caught, which is silly.

"The quiet ones?" Jin asks on his side.

"Um, yeah," Kame says. Jin grins.

Then Tanaka asks him something else about the plumbers, and Kame has to tell the entire story again for a new audience.

Beside him, Jin is laughing at something Yamatani said, and that's good; Kame won't supervise their conversation and he's not laying claim to Jin, really not. Jin can talk to other people he likes. That's important. Jin should have fun.

Junnosuke says something about paying the piper for piping hot water. Kame laughs, which helps the stress. Tanaka is finding it hilarious too, while Shota manages to simultaneously feign an escape attempt from the bad jokes and squirm closer. Tanaka's proprietary hand on his leg is welcome.

They're not doing that, he and Jin. Kame isn't doing that.

There's something about Yamatani's granddaughter now and her views on the colour palette of houses, but Kame has decided to leave them to it, so he says to Tanaka, "Speaking of pipers, weren't you going to put out a new single?"

Tanaka's eyebrows shoot up. "Pipers?"

Kame shrugs and doesn't blush. "You're always going on about how rap's not tuneless."

Tanaka lets him off this time, and it turns out that he's spent the last week in a recording studio, with the new single due in about a month.

"Oh no," Hashimoto says in fake concern. "I have one due in three weeks. We'll be rivals on the Oricon charts."

Tanaka nods sombrely. "That is worrying."

Everybody else is giggling.

"You should collaborate," Kame says randomly, half-distracted by the fact that next to him, Hello Kitty has just entered the conversation.

"You think there'd be a market for it?" Tanaka says, and Kame can tell he's half serious. Tanaka likes to experiment. "We could call it rapka."

"Enp," Shota says and wriggles against him.

"My jazz-hip-hop fusion girls are starting to take off, I think," Tanaka says, looking pleased. "Not as much as my JUNGLELOW guys, but they were on Music Planet last week, and the songs we put up for download are going really well. Some people are even paying for them."

Ryuuhei asks Hashimoto if his fanbase has joined the age of downloads, and Hashimoto warns them all not to underestimate the modern middle-aged housewife. They're not as openly cuddly as Tanaka and Shota, but Kame catches Hashimoto's small, slender hand brushing at Ryuuhei's hair when the focus is on Tanaka. Unless either one of them is going to be rude, this one is settled, too.

He's not listening in on Jin, and not moving closer. But he's just caught up with Tanaka again when he hears Yamatani's voice, "… about time I left you young men to have some fun, I think," and he turns quickly.

He doesn't want Yamatani to think he was inhibiting their fun, and he hopes it's not due to their lack of open fondling, when Yamatani has no reason to know Kame better than that, not after last time.

"I hope you have a nice evening, too," Jin says before Kame can find the right reassurances, with a smile and absolutely no innuendo.

They all say friendly polite goodbyes and Yamatani leaves in as easygoing a mood as he arrived. Kame has no idea what he's thinking but Jin gives him a slow smile, so whatever Jin is thinking must involve that Kame behaved acceptably.

Junnosuke has used the chance to take his leave and try his luck elsewhere, too, and then it's just the six of them, tidy in clear pairs. Kame feels sheepish and young with everyone else being close and affectionate.

Only he knows he'd feel even more stupid if he was pawing Jin. That only works for him when he's crazy.

He takes a deep breath. At least nothing went wrong with Yamatani, and Jin… Jin is smiling again, just as sheepish, and like he's aware of their fondling abstinence, and Kame feels something in him unwind. They've overcome more awkward breaks and pauses.

"Have you eaten?" he asks, quietly and just to Jin.

"A while ago," Jin says. "I'm not starving, but some snacks could be nice."

Kame nods, and opens the invitation to the rest, Tanaka being vocal about the club's perfect mochi, before he turns to find a waiter and then there's Yuuya, coming straight towards them.

Oh no. Just when he'd thought… just when they'd started to relax together.

He didn't see Yuuya around earlier, thought he might be out with a client. That he wouldn't have to deal with that, too.

Yuuya gives him the usual escort greeting, minus flirtation, and then he asks Hashimoto very politely if it's okay to pull up an armchair between him and Shota. Once he's settled, he smiles across at Jin, who's the furthest away from him – a bright, sharp smile – and then he turns to Hashimoto and Ryuuhei and says something that makes them laugh.

Kame will deal.

"So," he says to Jin, trying to hit the right tone, the pre-Yuuya tone. "Snacks." He doesn't quite dare look at him.

He gets a waiter over quickly now, and orders some fruit and sweets to share and the sesame mochi Tanaka wanted. Tanaka orders pretzel sticks and wasabi peas for Shota, and Kame can already tell they'll be fighting over the check.

"Would it be okay to get some pickles, too?" Jin asks. "The stronger ones, I like them."

"Of course," Kame says. "Anything else?"

"Some of the rice crackers in seaweed would be nice."

Kame looks around briefly, to find there are no further suggestions. He meets Yuuya's eyes for all of half a second, because that's a normal thing to do, and Yuuya gives him a very normal stare right back.

Great.

The waiter leaves, and Kame wonders if anybody else finds the gap of silence that follows awkward.

But probably not; after a moment Tanaka finishes something he'd started saying about digital rights management, and instantly Shota and Ryuuhei start telling him about the times they lost all their music from their ipods and couldn't get it back.

"Has that happened to you, too?" Kame asks Jin, but Jin shakes his head.

"I don't have an ipod. I get their point, though."

"I still use CDs," Kame says, which is stupid, and his face turns warm, but Jin laughs in a nice way and says at least he won't accidentally delete his entire collection.

"Not sure that's a good thing," Tanaka raises his voice, though he then proceeds to praise Kame for his diligent support of hard-working artists. When Hashimoto enquires into Kame's musical tastes, Kame gives the sort of generic answer Jin would appreciate. He's really not a fan of any particular thing.

The food arrives, and there is distributing of dishes and thank-yous and Jin maneuvering the pickles in his direction while Ryuuhei and Yuuya get their musician guests to talk about concert experiences.

Jin is focussing, first wiping his hands carefully on one of the hot towels and then prying some layered pickles apart with careful flicks of his chopsticks. There's a small smile on his face when he thanks Kame.

Shota thanks him too, blowing him a playful kiss, which sets off jealous complaints by Tanaka and an ensuing tussle that takes the spotlight off Kame's awkward non-response.

"Now I'm wondering if I'm getting the gratitude thing right," Jin says. He's paused in operation pickle and is regarding Kame thoughtfully. "If you'd like me to blow a kiss at someone so you can get some wrestling exercise in for your money, just say."

Kame's not even sure he heard right. But he did, and Jin is trying not to grin. "I'm just afraid I'd lose," he manages, and Jin laughs.

His voice goes higher when he does that. It's different and unexpected, and Kame likes it.

"Maybe you need more nourishment?" Jin suggests, still keeping it quiet, just between them. He lifts the pickle he's put on a napkin.

"Um, no thanks," Kame says.

"You don't like pickles?"

"Not really. I don't like sour stuff."

"You put lemon in your water, though," Jin says with a detective face.

Kame doesn't know what to say. He's not sure of the ground they're walking on, when they're not alone, and Jin is making him feel slow, and this is good and he doesn't want to fuck up again.

"That's for building up tolerance," he says, a touch delayed, but then that's normal for them, they live with not being smooth, and Jin gives him a warm look sideways before he finally gets to demolish his pickle. Kame picks something at random, and it turns out to be sticky and very sweet.

Jin's noticed, is biting his lip; and then he reaches for his beer with that smile on his mouth and his hands all sure and elegant, and his wide shoulders right next to Kame, and that's a different kind of heat under his skin, a sudden hot shock because…—

Kame blinks, glad when Jin just has an oblivious sip. He's not sure why it's a surprise, why it feels dirty. They're not under any impression that Jin isn't attractive to him; neither of them. Only with Jin clothed and relaxed and talking to people, not even aware…

But he's not dragging Jin off for anything. He's sitting here keeping his hands to himself, and Jin doesn't want to get away from him at all. So it can't be that bad.

When he reaches for his drink, he finds Yuuya's eyes on him, watchful behind easy escort blandness.

Well, that helps.

Tanaka and Hashimoto seem to have moved on to entertaining their companions with backstage anecdotes – random accidents leading to changes in program, crazy fans sneaking past security. Tanaka is telling everybody about the magic man incident. Kame has heard this one before; it's well worth repeating. A quick sideways look tells him Jin has tuned into the conversation.

"And was he really a Druid?" Shota seems fascinated by the possibility.

"He definitely thought he was one," Tanaka says. "The security guys didn't. I don't know if the curses he called down on their, uh, equipment worked or not. I can't think of a way to ask."

"Does that happen often, that fans get so crazy?" Jin's question is directed at all three of them equally; maybe he's aware that Kame hasn't said much recently.

Tanaka shakes his head. "Mostly they just throw their panties."

"Or somebody's panties," Hashimoto amends. "Some of the things that land on my stage would no longer fit anyone in the audience."

There's a pause. His turn. "I just see some of the letters," Kame admits. "My agent vets stuff for me." He shrugs weirdly. "Sorry, no panties." That's what they're talking about, panties on a stage. Not the bad stuff.

"Don't be jealous," Tanaka grins.

"We could collect some panties here," Shota suggests, and Kame swallows wrong and ends up coughing while the subject dissolves in giggles and some strong opinions on Calvin Klein.

"You okay?" Jin asks.

Kame gulps and nods, and then he coughs some more.

"I know the idea of Shota's underpants is kind of scary," Jin says, but when their eyes meet he's looking rather serious for an underwear discussion. Kame doesn't ask. "I promise I won't let them near you."

Kame can finally breathe again, and he smiles. "I appreciate it."

Not that Shota is making any signs of trying to detach himself from Tanaka, the way they're leaving half the sofa empty. Ryuuhei and Hashimoto are almost certainly holding hands behind Ryuuhei's back, and Kame is starting to feel a little weird about the distance between him and Jin. He's never very demonstrative in the lounge, but Jin doesn't know that, Jin's only seen him acting crazy and making sure Jin knew who he belonged to.

He's just wondering if he should tell Jin, if Jin thinks they're being weird too or if an explanation would be even weirder, when Jin shifts forward on the couch to snatch up a strawberry; and when he sits back he's closer, when he's wiped his hands he lets them sink, and there's a quiet fleeting touch in the small gap between their legs.

Jin's eyes are dark, and this is private; every other client in the room would be looking somewhere else. It makes his skin break out in goosebumps. Or maybe that's Jin's tiny smile.

"Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Kame says, and gulps again when Jin's hand slides up onto his thigh, as subtle as Tatsuya would do it, as Takuya-san would, knowing Kame's not the type for showy come-ons. Only it's different. "I think I'm nervous."

Jin's thumb moves a little. His smile is the same. "Good." Then his hand drops off again but Jin stays close, and the warmth stays in Kame's face, all the way through the Louis Vuitton versus Dolce & Gabbana showdown.

When he catches Yuuya looking at them, he just sits it out; but during the lull in the conversation after Hashimoto has finished pining for the 1982 Versace line, Yuuya stands up, making his apologies and winking at Tanaka. His goodbye to Kame is as professional as ever.

Kame breathes easier, though the relief isn't overwhelming. It wasn't so bad, and he can never complain.

He can still feel Jin at his side, a tiny stroke of his thumb now and then on the outer seam of his pants. He can't help smiling, and then he has to smile more when he notices Jin watching him.

"I don't really have a favourite," Jin says when Ryuuhei addresses him directly. He shrugs. "There are lots of nice brands."

"Can you even tell them apart?"

"Well, it usually says what it is on the label."

"Yeah, but all those foreign letters…" Ryuuhei makes a dramatically pained face, and Jin laughs at him.

Kame knows his brands, but he's not eager to join in too loudly. The group's still going strong, looking settled for the duration, and though he likes it here on the couch with Jin, sitting quietly, maybe he'd like it even better if…

Jin is leaning in a bit, catching his focus. "No rush," Jin says. "But if you wanted to go upstairs, I'd be glad to."

"Are you sure?"

Jin nods. "It'll be nice to have some time to ourselves, too. I'm looking forward to it."

"Okay," Kame says. He feels weirdly like a beginner, but he can handle it. "Me too."

They are still polite, though, waiting for a break in the conversation or a topic shift. In the end it's Tanaka who notices that shutting up for a second would help Kame out greatly.

They're not touching hands when they get up, but after they've said their goodbyes and Tanaka has mocked him for his early bedtime, he knows where Jin is all the time, feels his presence every moment while they go to get the key.

It's going to be easier from here, he thinks when he takes the familiar card, says he'd like to be billed for the shared food at their table, and confirms he expects to stay for the night. Jin's right behind him, waiting.

### *~*~*

Jin knew it was going to be a suite from the moment Kame took a right out of the elevator, but that's not making it any less amazing when the door opens onto an area twice the size of his apartment stretching out to the left and right, the view only interrupted by the bathroom which serves to separate living and sleeping space. He's been in a suite before, on his first day when Danny showed him around. Just never with a client. He tries to recall all the facilities they have in here.

He also tries not to let the elegance intimidate him all over again. It's just a room. A room for fucking, most of the time.

Kame has taken off his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the chairs by the large wood and glass table with autumn ikebana on it. Now he's tugging at his tie and looking at Jin with a smile. "Get comfortable." He nods at the suit. "You said you didn't like it much."

Jin nods and slips out of his suit jacket, looking for a hanger. He's pretty sure Kame meant it just like he said it, but he flashes him a smile anyway. "If that was supposed to be code for 'get naked', you need to—"

"No!" Kame is blushing, and his horrified look makes Jin feel guilty. "I didn't mean that."

"Okay," Jin says quickly. "I didn't think you did, just… it would be okay. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Kame says, but he looks uncertain.

"So let's just slum it up," Jin says, pulling off his own tie, "in nothing but our Boss pants."

"Prada," Kame says, and lets himself fall heavily on the wide, peach-coloured couch.

Jin sits down next to him. "How lowbrow."

"Actually it's…" Kame stops himself, shaking his head. "Never mind."

"It looks nice," Jin says, making a show of appreciating Kame's designer choices. "A solid investment."

Now Kame laughs. "Sorry. I'll leave you alone with the fashion talk."

Jin grins and pulls at the thick carpet pile with his socked toes. "It's okay." He leans his head back against the expansive leather and ignores Kame's determination to not check him out. "I'm sorry about the fan comment, earlier," he says. "I know you've had to deal with stuff, I didn't want to bring that on."

Kame shrugs easily. His fingers are playing piano on the leather between them. "It's fine, I didn't think it was awkward," he says. "That was a very enjoyable round. I'm glad we did that."

Yeah, with Yuuya there checking out if Jin's a victim of Kamenashi mind control. Kame is so totally lying.

"Tanaka-san's a fun kind of guy," Jin says, though, and Kame gratefully agrees with that.

They both lean back, not touching, and Jin gets a moment to take in the room.

The design is modern and airy, but with enough softness and colour to look comfortable at the same time. They never do music, and so Jin can hear the gurgling noise of a fountain. It turns out to be part of the tastefully simulated garden in a raised corner.

The windows are the usual clever one-way glass, but there's a faint reflection on the inside from the deep blue glow of the aquarium set into the wall opposite the TV set.

Jin wonders who feeds the fish.

"We can turn that light off, if it bothers you. There's a switch," Kame says, and then, "Sorry. I mean, you probably know that."

"I don't," Jin says, twisting his neck so he can look at Kame without sitting up. "I haven't been in one of these before, actually."

"Oh. Right." Kame is nodding hastily and looking like he's not at all getting with the slumming and relaxing programme.

Jin waits a moment, but it takes less time to find his courage now. He slides his hand on Kame's thigh, because that worked well and because it feels good, and it makes Kame flustered in a much better way than the constant lurking guilt.

"I like it," he says easily. "It's nice here." Then he frowns and gives the fish another look, leaving his hand right where it is. "You think they get, like, weirded out when you turn off their light?"

"Hm," Kame says. "I've never thought about it. Are guppies afraid of the dark?"

"I'm sure these ones are," Jin says after some thought. "They're probably all wussy and overbred and get indigestion if you feed them at the wrong time."

Kame laughs, and Jin can feel him easing back. "Now I wonder what a tank full of confused fish is going to do for our sleeping."

"Well, we can leave their light on," Jin says, feeling generous. "Just to be good neighbours."

"They _were_ here before us," Kame considers.

"Exactly." Jin nods. "Fish-senpai."

Kame makes a snorting sound that sounds like an aborted giggle. "Okay, now you're scaring me. Now I feel watched."

Only he doesn't, because he's looking more sprawly and loose by the minute, and it's a good look on him, it's _cute_ , and it makes Jin want to touch him.

Touch him more.

He leans in slowly, and there's a little huff on Kame's lips, that thing he does when he gets nervous, until Jin kisses it away.

It's soft, because Kame's good with any kind of kissing and this is what Jin wants, just for now. "Kame," he says, for the first time tonight, and Kame says, "what," and when Jin kisses him again it's all good. Kame's chest rises with a deep breath, like Kame's been waiting for this, for days. Jin likes how much Kame loves the touching.

It goes quiet when they stop. Jin's not staging a seduction, he just wanted this. Kame with a dreamy face, letting his head slump against the soft backrest only when Jin does the same. It feels sneaky, in this grandiose room with its blunt purpose.

"I hope you don't mind," Jin says, tracing the vee of Kame's shirt, right where his skin is turning warm. "It seemed kind of…"

"I don't mind," Kame says.

They still don't move, and nobody's taking further steps. Jin's feeling lazy. Lazy and pleased. He's been looking forward to seeing Kame, too.

But it changes, the longer they wait. He can read it in Kame and in the shy sweep of his eyes, the flush that doesn't ask for anything, the control shading Kame's breath, and yeah, okay, this is fair, too, and it's fine.

When he moves in again it's with a bit more purpose, and Kame still breathes in surprise but then his tongue is there and his lips slide open, and there's more depth and more heat, and Kame gasping in a sweet little breath when they break apart.

"I don't mind that either," Kame says, shy like always when he's daring to be funny.

"Thought so," Jin says, and the next time Kame's hands find their way into his hair, and maybe Kame will finally stop holding back so much.

He likes it, with Kame, it helps. He has clients where it's distracting, kissing some stranger while he's supposed to get turned on, and it takes such a fucking lot of concentration, but this is easy, totally cool.

Then Kame breaks off again. "I should shower," he mumbles. "I came from work today."

"Hm," Jin says randomly. And then he remembers. "They have pretty cool showers here, too, don't they? A bit like yours at home?"

"Same brand," Kame says, slowly getting up, but holding on to Jin's fingers right to the end. "Only without the lower back ducts."

Jin grins. "Less dangerous, you mean."

"I made you a setting," Kame says, stripping off his pants and dropping them over an armchair. "You'll be safe next time." His socks follow, and then he grabs two bathrobes from the wardrobe. "I won't be long," he says, putting one down for Jin and taking the second one with him. "Help yourself to…" He shrugs, makes a sweeping gesture. "…whatever you like."

The bathroom door doesn't quite close after him, and after half a minute, Jin hears the shower come on.

He gets out of his own clothes; hangs them up carefully because he put the suit on fresh today. When he's shrugged into the bathrobe he wanders around more, to get familiar with what the luxury suites have to offer. A little more of everything the other rooms have, everything a little bigger, the carpet a little softer. But mostly it just feels more like an apartment, less like a hotel room. Even the careful decoration here and there makes it look more personal, less transitory. Someone from staff has brought Kame's bag up and put it next to the gleaming dresser.

When he hears the shower stop, he wraps the bathrobe around himself properly and ties the belt. He gets a beer from the drinks cabinet and wonders what Kame might like.

Kame emerges from the bathroom flushed and a little damp, and looking so hot that Jin thinks he can see steam rising off him.

"Water?" he asks.

Kame nods. "With ice, please," he adds. "I think I overdid it a bit."

His hair is dry, but a few damp strands are clinging to his face. When Jin comes close to give him the glass, he can feel the heat that surrounds him and he inhales furtively, catching warmth and the scent of soap and skin.

"I'll just quickly shower, too," he says. "Try out the fancy dials."

He doesn't know how fast or slow Kame wants to take it. They have so much time, and Kame isn't usually in a hurry. But it's better if he's prepared.

The shower's nice, and he's intrigued by the radio, but he doesn't linger. It feels weird, with Kame waiting outside; he wants to be out there too and not in here, no matter how soothing the water or how interesting the marble bench looks. So he's wrapped up in his bathrobe again less than five minutes later, without washing his hair, and Kame meets him with a smile across the room from the aquarium, where he seems to have been teasing the fish.

"That didn't take long," he says.

Jin picks his beer back up and has a nice cooling swallow. "It's boring alone."

Kame's still so flushed everywhere it's hard to tell if he gets embarrassed.

"More interesting out here."

"I see." Kame doesn't move, lets Jin come towards him. "You mean like the room, and the fish, and the special features."

Jin gets into Kame's space just enough that Kame has to notice, leaning against the wall. "Definitely the special features." Kame makes a show of looking around very seriously and Jin follows his gaze. He thinks. "What are they, anyway?"

"Hmmm. I think the fountain counts. And the bed does some stuff."

Jin makes a face before he manages to suppress his reaction. Right.

"Um, don't worry," Kame says quickly. "It's nothing… weird or anything."

Yeah. Jin's not even sure what he was expecting. The club generally doesn't go for gaudy, and he's pretty sure Kame wouldn't either.

"It has a night sky. I think it's supposed to be romantic." Kame is standing up straight now and even his water glass looks kind of stiff.

Jin's not keen on weird romance things, but he's also not keen on Kame standing there like that. By now he's even curious, too. "Show me?"

They have to sit on the bed to see. For a guy who's booked Jin for a rest, Kame has a rather impressive repertoire of 'look how I'm not going to jump you' poses, and Jin makes sure to lean in a bit more to make his own point about jumping and how okay it is.

"See," Kame says, raising his chin towards the bed's ceiling while he's fumbling for some switch. Another remote.

There is what looks like a pitch-black screen, and suddenly there are little lights on them. It doesn't even look too fake. "That's kind of cool," Jin says.

Kame turns it up a little, and when Jin switches off the room lights it's as if they've left the city behind and are watching from a lonely hilltop where the stars are brighter.

"Does it do other stuff?" Jin asks.

"I think so," Kame says. He's craning his neck in concentration, almost painfully focussed, and Jin decides to lie back, his feet still on the floor. He raises his eyebrows when Kame gives him a look.

"I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to look at that sitting up," he says. "It's not good for your neck. Besides, like this you get the ocean effect, too." He waves a foot towards the aquarium.

"True," Kame says, and lies down carefully beside him. They aren't touching, at least not until Jin asks for the remote and his fingers brush Kame's.

"So what else does it have?" He presses a button. Pale pink cherry-blossom laden branches light up slowly at the edges of the display.

"Um," Kame says, "it's mostly not really—"

Another button, and everything is gone, blank, and he's staring at himself and Kame in a shiny surface.

"—my taste," Kame says, subdued.

"Um," Jin echoes. He doesn't know where to look. "Yeah… can you get the stars back?"

Kame knows how it works, and he does.

"Thanks."

The room is much darker now, but Jin can still see Kame; can see him watching Jin's face, and the distance between them, and every cautious move of his own. Always watching himself.

And although his eyes soften when Jin leans over to kiss him again, Jin can feel his tension and arousal before they even touch. Watching, and waiting.

Jin shifts first, rolling on his side to make the invitation. Kame takes care not to make him wait, Kame's hands staying carefully on the clothed parts of Jin's body, until Jin will move closer, just like always.

Jin breaks the kiss, carefully, and smiles when Kame looks at him. He'd hoped that their third proper date wouldn't still leave him wondering. "Listen," he says.

Kame gives a little nod, but his tongue darts out over his lips and Jin wonders what he's expecting. If he's got any idea.

"What we're doing is great," Jin says. He's thought this through. It's not going to be easy to say right, no matter how he starts it. Just one of those things between them. "I really like it, we could do that all the time."

"Well, that's good," Kame says, looking somewhere between confused and relieved. "So we—"

"But is there anything else you'd like? Because we can totally do that. Whatever else you'd like."

"I don't," Kame says, and now he's moving away, propping himself up on his elbow. "I don't like anything else, I like this, this is good."

"You used to like other stuff, too. Totally okay stuff, stuff I can _do_ for you." Jin doesn't like getting this serious but he was kind of ready for it. He sits up, but he makes sure he stays turned towards Kame. He's a little afraid what might happen if he doesn't, not that he has any idea what it might be.

"I'm not missing that stuff," Kame says stiffly. "There's too much…" He shrugs, a little impatiently, and starts to play with the bit of sheet in front of him. "Stuff. You _know_."

"I know you're being careful," Jin says at once. "And I appreciate it," he adds, because it's true. But there are degrees, and Kame is entitled, and with some of it he'd really be okay, by now; he's sure. "But… okay, you like my mouth on you, right?" He's not sure who's blushing more, Kame or he, but thank god it's dark. "I like doing that, too, there's no reason not to do that. Or if you wanted different foreplay, if you wanted me to do things with my hands… I barely get a chance to touch you. I like touching you. And we can, you know, move around? Do stuff upside down or whatever? I mean, I don't know. But I'd be happier if you said if you want something."

Kame is sitting now too, and Jin's not sure he wouldn't run away if he didn't think that would be rude. "I'm really okay," he says with a frown. "I don't need…"

Need.

"You're paying an awful lot of money." Kame flinches. Jin knew he would, was hoping to avoid it, but he doesn't want to have this conversation a second time, and he wants to be _sure_. "You should get what you want, and there's lots of ways that would be very okay with me. This is important to you. I want you to enjoy it. I don't want you to get bored doing one thing when your favourite thing is really something else because you think you're not allowed what you like anymore."

"I won't get bored." Suddenly, Kame sounds very sure of himself again, as if Jin's given him the key to something. "Don't worry about that."

"But you liked—"

"I liked lots of really weird stuff for a while." Kame grimaces in the dark, and Jin wouldn't know what to make of it if Kame wasn't closing the distance, reaching out for him at the same time. "Now, I like doing the things we're doing. I'm not bored. I won't get bored with you. Okay?"

Okay. That sounds pretty good. And it feels good too, the way Kame kisses him, soft but with desire. "Okay," Jin mumbles in between. "But you know…"

"I know," Kame says, shuffling closer; it's awkward now with the way they're sitting, but also fine. Just fine.

They make out for a bit just sitting like that, and then their bathrobes are getting unwieldy and in the way and they both laugh when they break apart again, to get rid of them, so Jin doesn't have to lie on a pile of bunched-up terrycloth.

Kame drops the robes over a chair. Jin smiles to himself, watching Kame move, and he stretches out quite comfortably.

His eyes catch the fake stars again.

"Would you prefer to have that off?" Kame says. "I mean, I'm not actually that keen myself."

"Yeah," Jin admits. "It's nice, but…"

"Kind of weird."

"Yeah." Jin watches Kame pick up the remote from where they kicked it off the bed, and then the stars are gone. That's better. More real.

"How about this, want it on?" Kame asks, motioning towards the light on the nightstand.

"I'd like that, yeah." Jin likes seeing who he's with. He shouldn't even be surprised that Kame remembered.

The light is soft and gentle and usually intended to make the old guys look less gross. With Kame, it's different. Kame looks like you'd pay to see him like this.

It's good like this; always good, Kame finding his balance and the things they do, the things that work for Kame and make Jin feel glowy and relaxed. Kame still does everything, the touching and the kissing and making Jin shiver before they're even doing anything serious, and Kame whispers, "This is my favourite thing," right there against his mouth.

They're always looking at each other. Kame's hands stay on him when they're not even trying to arouse. That's one of Jin's favourite things.

The serious stuff, too. The stuff Jin doesn't need, just likes, doesn't want clients to do to him. And Kame comes close right away now, doesn't leave him alone to feel watched, and he can enjoy it just here, just a bit; the trust and the slow slick rhythm of fingers moving inside him, how close and open it feels. It turns him on, always has; even now.

And it gets Kame ready, too, ready and burning, and that's totally fine. The fucking is easy, and they work well together. Kame is good and smooth and he looks so intent when he strokes Jin hard that it's worth the effort it takes not to shut him out at the end, like he does all the others.

There's still that moment; when the pleasure rises and it's time, when he lets go and falls into sensation. That moment when he's not sure where he'll land when he opens his eyes. But it's getting easier, a gentler drop and again there's just Kame, smiling and pleased, and holding him steady in his shivering skin.

And it's better to come before the client, anyway, when they're still going for stuff and their minds are fuzzy with want.

He's ready now, and he gets to watch Kame lose himself, and Jin loves that, it's what he'd love if they were just two normal guys, and he feels strong and hot and he's waiting for that sound, and the way Kame collapses, the way he looks so totally happy.

He can still smell the soap underneath the salt on Kame's skin as they lie close, just breathing, coming to rest. With Kame, he always gets time to stop feeling like he's turned inside-out for everybody to see. He loves that, too.

It's a shame that escort-etiquette forbids falling asleep straight away. But at least he can stay lying here under the guise of giving the client time to recover and decide what he wants next.

He's no sooner thought it than Kame stirs, and props himself up a little. There's a strand of hair in his face and he looks funny as he tries to blow it up and sideways, twice, until Jin reaches out and tucks it away for him.

"That's what I like," Kame says, with a long glance along Jin's exhausted body, fingers trailing up his side as if they have things to say too. "When we do things both of us enjoy. Okay?"

Jin makes a patient sort of face which he hopes won't make Kame feel that the subject of ever doing other things again is now closed. "Okay."

"Okay." Kame nods, and gets up. "Don't run away."

After a minute in the bathroom he's back, and this time he pulls the cover up before he lies down again on his back. Jin moves in without waiting to be asked.

It goes quiet again, for a while, Kame's fingers light along Jin's back, resting in his hair. Like always. Kame's not even getting tense from the silence. Maybe that talk was good for something else, too.

Jin breathes in the warm scent, doesn't move. He knows he has to watch himself but he's got it under control. It's just nice when someone's there like this and it's not sex.

But at some point Kame wants to get the shower over with. Jin likes the rinse too, and they both do it quickly, separately, and then Jin sits on the edge of the bed while Kame checks out the wine rack and the mini bar.

"What do you want?"

"Hmm," Jin muses. "I don't think they have my thing."

"Your thing?"

"My thing. The thing you give me."

"Oh, Drambuie," Kame says, and squats down in front of the mini bar, bathrobe trailing on the floor, to rummage with intent. Little bottles get lined up on either side of him as he clears it out, and then he turns around. "They don't. But I can order some."

Jin doesn't even try to say no. He listens to Kame calling down for a 'large Drambuie, no ice', and then they establish between them that Kame is in the mood for a whisky but not the first one he finds when he looks around himself and not the second one, either.

A little green bottle that had ended up behind him is the winner, and once he's got ice in his drink too and has taken a sip, Kame ponders the bottle forest on the floor. "I guess I should put that back."

There's absolutely no need for it. Jin's pretty sure Kame knows that too. Housekeeping would deal. "Let's," he says because there's not much else they can do while waiting, anyway.

Service is quicker than they expected, though, and they have just removed all the little bottles for the second time – "How can they not fit in, they were all in there when I started?" – and are trying not to trip over them or each other, when there's a knock on the door.

"Uh," Kame says under his breath, and then he shrugs and raises his voice. "Come in, please."

Jin imagines they are looking like two desperate alcoholics in search of a tipple. When they stand up order to be polite, their movements are accompanied by soft clinking.

Not that Kido-san would ever raise an eyebrow. Not that this is by any measure the worst or weirdest thing any of these guys have seen.

Jin's ready to take the tray off him, but Kame is quicker. "If you could just put it on the table, please, we'll be fine."

So that's what happens, and there are bows all round, and Kido leaves and Jin and Kame look down at their feet.

"This _has_ to work," Kame says.

*~*~*

It's an hour later, and the alcohol has turned into a soft glow inside Jin. Kame got methodical about the bottles and they've been back in the bed with cups of the club's complimentary ginseng tea, the lights still low and the gurgly water in the background. Kame says he likes the club's European breakfast.

They've established that Jin is staying the night. Jin guesses it's good that he didn't feel the need to establish that more sex would be okay, or that Kame didn't have to establish he wasn't going to require more anyway. They're starting to know what to expect. It's cozy.

Even nicer, Jin thinks, if they weren't sitting there with the careful space back between them. Jin's pretty sure by now it's not because Kame doesn't like being close.

They've both stuck their feet under the cover. Jin says he likes the croissants from the kitchen, and doesn't say anything to remind Kame that he fucks other clients on other dates which don't end in sleepovers. The size of the room feels funny now, just dark and ridiculous when they're fine here in their warm corner, with the sleepy lighting, when that's all they need.

Except for that distance. Like there aren't steps between this and second rounds, or like Kame hasn't figured out where they stand. Where Jin stands.

Maybe he can do something about that.

He wiggles his toes, carefully under the blanket, until they are touching Kame's shin.

"Hi," he says, and waits.

Kame looks puzzled, then like he wants to choke on his tea, and just when Jin's about to get worried, he puts his cup down and very carefully lifts the cover up to peek under it.

"Hello there," he says. "What can I do for you?"

Jin gives another very tiny wiggle, totally innocent. "Warm here," he says, in the sort of semi-falsetto he imagines a toe might have. "Fluffy."

Kame puts the cover back down and considers that over a slow, thoughtful sip.

"Jin," he says in the end. "I think your toe likes my leg hair."

Jin ponders it with the seriousness it deserves. "I think toes like a fluffy sort of environment," he manages, pleased with himself for his straight face.

"Do you think it might be planning to… nest?"

And that's the end of it; Jin snorts into his cup, and his toe and Kame's leg lose contact. But he hunts for it, and finds it again, and this time it's closer, no wriggles, just touch, and they grin at each other.

"It's just nice," Jin says, normal voice and all. "You feel nice, that's all. Is it okay?"

"Of course," Kame says automatically. He has that look he hasn't had all night, like he's thinking through several answers again, but at least it's calm, not panicked, and in the end he settles on pleased. "You feel nice, too." Then there's a slow grin, like he's noticed how much they're echoing each other. "I mean… really." His leg gives a nudge back against Jin's foot, and Jin slides it over in response because that means he can. "It's very okay."

They nudge each other back and forth a few times, smiling, before they go quiet again. Jin has another sip of tea, and when he shifts his weight his leg brushes Kame's. Yes, this is good.

"How's your schedule next week?" Kame asks then. "Very busy?"

Jin can't think of anything out of the ordinary. "Not busier than usual."

"I… I don't really know yet when I'll be free, but I'd like to see you," Kame says. Jin says nothing, just enjoys the settled feeling. "I guess I'll call Ootomo when I know."

"Sure," Jin says. "Really, it should be fine." Ootomo knows about priorities, too, and rests get bumped up the management meter even without Jin's urging.

Kame swirls his tea and nods. "Good," he says.

"What? Something wrong?"

"No," Kame says. "Just…"

He sounds diffident, and Jin wonders if it's going to be about more sex after all, or… "You know how my schedule sometimes goes weird. This is actually a pretty quiet time, I'm going to be much busier than this."

Jin nods, with a treacherous sinking feeling; can't help wondering if this is the start to Kame saying they have to take a step back, that this will have to end.

"Sometimes I'm late," Kame says. "And sometimes I have to cancel altogether at the last minute. Just… well, just so you know."

"What…" Jin blinks into his tea, then at Kame. "That is it? That's… you were worried about that?" He doesn't point out that Kame cancelling things was how they _met_.

"I don't like being unreliable," Kame says. "I'll of course let Ootomo know when things like that happen, but I imagine that can feel strange so I thought I'd tell you in advance."

Jin can't help it, he's laughing. And when he's finished laughing, he puts down his tea and bounces off the bed. His cell phone is in his suit somewhere – they all keep them there no matter what management says about bulgy pockets.

When he turns, Kame is watching him anxiously.

"You can tell me yourself," Jin says. "Just as soon as I remember how to find out what my actual number is."

He gets back on the bed and starts to press buttons – rather randomly, he admits to himself, but eventually he's bound to come across what he's looking for. Kame is looking over his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" he says.

Jin nods and continues to interrogate his address book, which claims he doesn't exist.

"Can we do that? You won't get in trouble with Ootomo?"

"No, this is okay. As long as I tell him what we arrange or… disarrange. Unarrange. You know."

Kame's snort tickles his ear. "Derange," he suggests.

Jin finds the buttons annoying, and he looks up. "I mean, if it's okay with you. I promise I won't… trace your number. Or do anything evil with it. Or whatever."

Kame laughs out loud now, and after a quick check, takes Jin's phone off him. "No offense, but you don't look like much of a threat there."

"Hey, it's a phone!" Jin says. "I know how to dial."

"Good, so do I." Kame presses a button, and two meters away Kame's cell buzzes quietly in his pocket. He makes it stop and gives Jin the phone back. "That should do it."

"Yeah," Jin says, and somehow they've stopped laughing. "I mean, I can work with that. I took a class."

*~*~*

Kame still takes the left side of the bed. He's in boxers again; Jin has a t-shirt from his club bag, and the toothbrushes come with the room. There's enough space in the bed, and it hardly bounces when Kame drops himself on his side, returning from switching off the water fountain.

"Sorry," he says. "It makes me… well. I might be waking you up a lot."

Jin giggles, too tired and relaxed for etiquette. "That's very considerate." He's not sure he'll even sleep. Last time he ended up composing long songs in his head that made no sense in the morning, just to fight the boredom of tossing and turning.

Well, he was careful with the tossing. Which never helps. It's just that he's not used to sleeping with people around.

He feels quite settled, though, and heavy, like there might be more than incoherent naps waiting for him when Kame climbs in next to him and the mattress dips in a way Jin likes, which is a silly thing to think, and he thinks it anyway.

"Ready?" Kame asks.

"You arranged the alarm?"

"Yeah."

Jin nods. "Ready."

They don't kiss good night or anything like that. But Kame reaches over once, without looking like he's unsure of his welcome, and Jin catches his hand, and that's that. It's good. Jin feels proud of his toe. Good team work there.

Then the light goes out. More shifts in the mattress, Kame settling, too.

Jin blinks up at the dark ceiling, nestled in warmer and tighter than he usually is in these sheets, and waits. After a moment, Kame turns again; just like last time.

He listens for the change in breathing, just because he's curious. But it's harder to focus, and the heaviness is pulling at him. A long day. Exciting lounge adventures. He can still see the outlines of the unfamiliar room when he blinks his eyes open again; that always helps.

He turns on his side, very quietly. It's easy to close his eyes.


	32. Chapter 32

### Ginza, Sunday 21 December

Jin leaves the client with a double brandy and in blissful stupor, and doesn't roll his eyes and shrug to himself until he's out the door.

Insurance banker, short and pretty bald for his age, who'd been aiming for Jun but hadn't made it into the chosen circle. Maybe for the best. Jun gets really pissy when he invests hours of flirting and charm and then the guy only springs for a blow job.

Jin hadn't exactly expected that, either.

It's Sunday, not late yet, but business is slowing down. Yesterday was crazy. Jin is alone in the elevator and slouches against the wall, trying to do the math for the week, decide if he can go home without feeling like a slacker. But his brain feels kind of empty. This one talked a _lot_.

Also hard to calculate, with the cut he gets from the suite. He's never had to wonder about that before.

Ootomo's door is closed. Behind it, Jin can hear him talking to someone.

The break room looks busy, but it turns out that all the guys present seem just as ready to call it a night and are only hanging around for an excuse. It smells of tea and lemon cookies. Masaki waves at Jin silently, and Tadayoshi blinks his eyes open from a nap on the couch. It's quiet. Ryuuhei is in one of the armchairs, reading a manga.

"Who's in with him?" Jin asks, vaguely indicating Ootomo's office.

"Satoshi," Ryuuhei says. "Rotation."

His voice still sounds lazy. Verbal hangover, he called it last night.

Jin's not sure if it's Christmas coming up, everybody needing to get in some fucking before they have to make nice with their wives, but Friday and Saturday were a bustle like he hasn't seen in all his months here. Takahisa got so drunk they had to escort him home at three in the morning, and there was a big to-do on Saturday when Nakamaru accidentally hit the panic button while he chased Yuu-chan across the room.

Jin grabs a coke from the fridge and gets out of his jacket. Only the hard folding chairs are left, but he can sit close to the cookies. He gives Jaejoong a look, because they're the kind he's brought before, and Jaejoong nods invitingly from his armchair.

Christmas. For Jin it's going to be a day like any other, and if he's in here or stays at home, he won't even see too much of the sappy decorations and all the romance stuff around. The club's not going to be very busy, but still, no reason not to go to work.

The cookies are nice. He drinks his coke and thinks he might shower at home; the guy didn't get come on him or anything.

The door opens when Satoshi comes back, and Jin can tell right away it's not good, though a sulk is better than panic.

Masaki asks first. "What's going on?"

Satoshi is standing between the couch and their lockers like he can't quite decide what'll make a better outlet for his frustration. In the end he starts yanking out his shower stuff. "He booked me for some party on Christmas. And now he's pissed off because I told him I have plans."

Sheiks, Jin remembers. Nino; New York and Paris and five star hotels. Ootomo should have remembered.

"I got the day off," Tadayoshi says. "Didn't give me any trouble."

"I think it's because you are dating a girl," Jaejoong says. "She would be very upset."

"That is so sexist," Satoshi says. "Also I bought plane tickets."

"Is it for Hashimoto's room party?" Masaki asks. "You know… nothing personal, but anybody can do that. I wouldn't worry. He'll get over it."

"He's been kind of… high strung," Tadayoshi says meaningfully. "It was a tough weekend for him too."

"His problem," Satoshi says curtly. "I just left. I'm _not_ in the mood."

There's a pause, only interrupted by Satoshi stripping out of his shirt and pants with more noise than cotton should make. Jin drinks up his coke and tries to recall how many weeks it's been.

"I thought he's been eyeing you," Tadayoshi says to Ryuuhei with a blinding bright whore smile.

"Fuck you, not a chance," Ryuuhei says. "I did it last week. And I don't know what he ate, but it was bad."

Jin puts his second cookie back in the box. "I'll do it," he says. "I have to talk to him anyway."

He leaves the jacket. He'll have to come back for his stuff anyway.

"Thanks, man," Satoshi says when he passes. He looks calmer already. Jin doesn't really believe Ootomo's going to make him return plane tickets and cancel hotel reservations, either. He just gets like that when he's fucked something up and gets reminded.

"No problem," he says.

In the hall, he smoothes back his hair once and wipes his face for cookie crumbs before he knocks on Ootomo's office door, and gives it three seconds before he cautiously pushes it open.

"Ah," Ootomo says without any particular enthusiasm. "Jin." The computer is on and the desk is messy, the room hot from the equipment or a heating malfunction, or the nuclear power of Ootomo's green shirt. Finance stuff, from the looks of it, with a bunch of grubby receipts making Jin curious, only not really curious enough.

He closes the door. "I'm about to go home for the night," he says blandly. "I was wondering if there was anything else you needed."

"Oh." Ootomo draws himself up, like he needs a moment to catch on. "Indeed. I think… I could probably do with a break too."

Fortunately it usually doesn't take more fudge talk than that. Ootomo rolls his chair a bit further back from the desk and moves the paper bin out of the way. That's considerate.

After, Jin is offered a seat; maybe because Ootomo's not really thinking clearly, with all that blood in his face. It's not like Jin plans to stick around for tea and a chat.

"So, Jin," Ootomo says again, and again takes a deep huffy breath.

"Yeah," Jin says. He kind of wishes Ootomo had some water around for these things, or gum.

"Do you have plans for Christmas?"

It only _sounds_ funny. It's probably totally reasonable.

"No," Jin says. "I was going to come in."

"Ah, very good. Then, if it's all right with you, I'd like to send you out to Honda. Rest; does that every year for Christmas. He picked you from the catalogue."

If it's all right with him. Not that Ootomo's got any reason to think he'll turn down a rest, but that sounds different from what Satoshi got only fifteen minutes ago. Jin doubts it's just his technique. More likely all the nice money he's bringing in from Kame.

Which reminds him why he came here in the first place…

"No, I don't mind," he says. "Thank you very much."

"Not at all, not at all…" Ootomo smiles. "It's at six on Christmas Eve. But I'll e-mail you again, update your calendar."

"Thanks." There is a pause. Jin takes a breath. "Actually… there's something else I wanted to tell you."

In the middle of all the sweaty colour, Ootomo's eyes go uncomfortably perceptive.

"Something wrong?" he asks harmlessly.

"No, not at all." Jin makes sure to look as cool as he can. "I exchanged phone numbers with Kamenashi-san. I know this is allowed with regulars and he seemed more comfortable, and I wanted to make him comfortable and…"

Ootomo hasn't moved; is just staring. And Jin's losing his nerve.

"…and so we did. And I wanted to tell you." God, how lame. He reminds himself he's doing well these days, that he has no reason to get all nervous in this office anymore, but somehow knowing he's getting better at whoring doesn't really do the trick either.

"Kamenashi-sama," Ootomo says. "Your phone number?"

"Well, it's my work phone." Not that he has any other phone. But this is about work. He's just being good interacting with the client. He nods in confirmation. "It fit the situation. He worried about being late to a date." He doesn't like telling Ootomo what they discussed, but he feels… maybe this is one Ootomo should hear. For Kame's sake too.

"Very well," Ootomo says, and doesn't even try to hide the watchfulness. "If you think it's best. Just keep me posted of what dates you agree on."

"Of course. I know the rules."

"I know you do," Ootomo says; sounding quite kind, actually. "So does that mean you think we don't need to have security calls anymore?"

Jin doesn't fidget, he guessed this would come. "I think it's okay, I think… we've worked something out. I don't need the calls. But if you want me to make them, I will."

Ootomo gives him a long look. "I'm glad to hear that. I think we should keep them for another appointment or two, it's not much hardship after all."

Jin nods. It is no hardship. And he can't really argue that's not fair.

 

### Roppongi, Wednesday 24 December

Kame sits patiently and waits for Mizuno-san from make-up to remove his fake samurai topknot, while Anbiru-kun urges her to come see a movie with him "and maybe have a drink after." Kame thinks she'll probably go with Hagiwara from the camera team who has been giving her a ride home every night since shooting started.

It's six and they've finished shooting even though the first scene took longer than expected. Most of them have plans for Christmas Eve and the producers appreciate that people can get distracted.

Kame has plans, too. He's booked the restaurant already – one of the nicest in town and worth even the rather formal evening wear they require. He's brought a good suit along, carefully hung first in the back of the car and then at the end of his small wardrobe stall.

They only have one stage assigned to them in the studio, since so much of the movie will be shot outdoors on location, or on special sets created in the fake village. But there are enough scenes which can be shot in Tokyo to make it worth having two separate locations and save the expense of having everybody out north even longer.

He heads into the shower with his villainous counterpart and the prospective first victim, Shikama-san, who is complaining about what Christmas cake will do to his diet.

His shower is quick; the hair takes longer since it's at a tricky length again. It would be easier if he could ask Mizuno-san for help but she's got a right to get away, too, and eventually he manages something he's happy with. There's good camaraderie in the dressing room where he's not the only one to change into something more upmarket than he came in wearing this morning.

Kame checks his watch and moves faster. They aren't meeting until seven-thirty, but the restaurant is halfway across town and traffic on Christmas eve is a frantic mess. Never mind that he knows his apology would be accepted without a problem, he doesn't want to keep Midori waiting.

*~*~*

She arrives later than he does, in the end, her cheeks rosy as she steps through the tinted doors into the reception lounge where he's waiting with a small martini.

"Sorry, sorry," she breathes while the attendant takes her coat. "Did you get my mail?"

Kame got it in the taxi half an hour ago. "Christmas cake crisis," he says with a smile, rising from the armchair. "It sounds intriguing."

"Ito-chan had brought in a cake and put it on a stack of letters which wasn't as stable as it seemed," Midori says as they take their seats. "Gocho banged his chair against the desk when he tried to toss some paper into the basket by the door, and…" She makes a face of woe.

A waiter brings the champagne Kame ordered while waiting and pours their first glasses. Kame doesn't pretend to taste it for quality – Midori knows well that he doesn't have a clue. She takes a sip and smiles and nods, and Kame sends the waiter away.

"And…?" Kame says after they've each taken another gulp.

"And well, there was cake on the desk and the annual report draft and the floor, and Ito-chan was sniffling, and I couldn't just leave. Really, I didn't even want to get changed until it was clear that I wouldn't have to hug and comfort cream-covered people or rescue important documentation from strawberry sauce."

She's looking elegant in her low-cut purple dress, just respectable enough for this restaurant but flirty already, just right for the party they're invited to later. With her hair up and long silver and diamond earrings dangling by her neck, she's pretty; sexy.

"That's a nice dress," Kame says.

She gives him a quizzical look. "You didn't seem that impressed with it when you saw it last."

He feels heat rise in him, uncertainty, he's not sure what he said and when, or when he even saw… oh. It was then, it was before…

He takes another drink of champagne and focuses, focuses like he does at work, because he wants to have a nice evening with Midori and not spoil it for both of them with his with his shame and mistakes.

"I do like it," he says. "I'm sorry I didn't say so and made you think I didn't. It goes really nicely with the highlights you've put in your hair."

They're faint burgundy in a dark shade of brown, and the light which shines off them also twinkles in her eyes as she regards him.

"I know you've been distracted," she says. "But things seem better. Maybe the new year will be better still."

Kame nods, glad to have a prompt for moving to a different topic. "Have you spoken to my mother about New Year?"

Midori laughs. "I need more alcohol for this."

But it's a fond laugh – Midori and Kame's parents get on very well; so well they can get extremely stubborn with each other.

"The hotel, right?" Kame says as he pours more champagne for her.

"The hotel. And the food delivery. And if we aren't careful, she won't let us take Ran-chan for a walk, either.

"You did point out that it's just around the corner and they don't see us when we're all asleep, anyway…"

"I pointed out that, and that moving all her crafts stuff out of your old room for just two nights is ridiculous, and so is trying to stuff in a futon that's too big for it, and that everybody will be happier if four people don't have to share one bathroom _and_ that she's the one who refused to let you buy her a huge mansion in which she can put up a small army."

"She let you get through all that?"

"I had to take several runs at it."

He has to laugh. "And who won?"

"Who do you think?"

"So… I'll be packing my respectable pyjamas then…"

"I confess I'm looking forward to being woken by Ran-chan bouncing up and down on the bed," Midori says fondly. "It's a cherished ritual."

"You can talk," Kame says. "You don't have vulnerable assets to worry about."

She grins. "Would you like me to find you a codpiece? – Oh." She looks up, and Kame, too, finally notices the waiter who has been standing two feet away waiting patiently with the menus.

*~*~*

The party venue is close enough to walk, a mere ten minutes, and after a heavy meal Kame thinks it's worth the unlikely risk of running into fans. Everybody will be preoccupied with their dates tonight. It's dry and not too cold on their way there; only a breeze makes them both wrap their scarves more tightly around their necks and pull their shoulders up. The streets are busy and it's as if every couple has determined to navigate without ever letting go of each other's hands. It's not as easy as it looks.

They have to stop at a light along with dozens of others. There are hushed, giggly conversations all around them, every couple occupied only with themselves, and Kame enjoys feeling unobserved, just one of many.

The party is in a cafe they cleared out for the occasion. Behind the bar is a young man with very bright and spiky hair.

Ando-san likes being single and unlike many single women has plenty of couples in her circle of friends. She also likes parties, and has somehow convinced everybody she knows that a couple of hours of dancing are just right between a romantic Christmas dinner and… other romantic Christmas activities.

Kame wonders what Jin is doing tonight. He didn't say anything on Monday; not that Kame asked. They met at the club, when Kame got out of a photoshoot early and gave him a nervous first call to see if Jin was free. In his phone, Jin is now an investment manager for Kitagawa Financial Services.

No boyfriend. Maybe he's working. Maybe he's at some party, too; paid to be at some party with some client.

Kame stops wondering and focuses on the dancing. He likes dancing with Midori – they dance well together. He likes that it works between them, that they suit each other. It gives him hope that they can be okay without passion, that friendship and how their lives fit each other will be enough, for both of them.

If Jin dances, too… it would be interesting, to dance with Jin. He's never danced with Souji.

He has to cut this out.

And he manages to, once they join back in the bustle of people and chat. It's a good evening. Kame gets asked about his films and about being famous, but in a way that isn't different from doctors being consulted about aches and pains, or from the way he got that IT guy at some party last year to explain to him why his laptop was running so slowly. There is a big democratic cake for singles and couples alike and Kame laughs out loud when Midori carries back her slice with pointed caution.

"Cake and I are on bad terms today," she says, but nothing happens. He gets her strawberry. Enoki-san's husband has an oddly shaped green fruit on top of his cocktail, and they spend ten minutes trying to decide what it could be.

Kame spots a few couples kissing unobtrusively when it strikes midnight, and he thinks he should probably do that, too.

Midori's lips are pink and pretty and taste faintly sweet. He tries not to think of fuller, lightly glossed ones.

They had a quiet night, spent hardly any time in the lounge and had room service dinner. It's getting easier between them; any tense moments, Kame usually does to himself. It helps to be sure what Jin likes. Jin likes kissing.

"Kisses at midnight always make me expect that something dramatic is going to happen," Midori says, sneaking a hand around his waist. "Like pumpkins turning into mice. People turning into frogs."

"Frogs turning into people?" Kame says. He tries to match her smile, thinking that a spell like that wouldn't be a bad idea, at all.

Midori doesn't know she got the frog.

"I think you're supposed to fling them against a wall for that," Midori says. She up-ends the glass of champagne she was holding and puts it down. "I always thought that was a bit cruel. I bet the JSPCA would have something to say about that."

Maybe sometimes the frog deserves it. Maybe sometimes it helps.

"Foreigners feel differently about their frogs," Kame says; but that was a bad call, too, and he tries to think of something else to say quickly before Yuuya and frog steaks and that entire night can become too vivid in his mind for where he is now. "Can I get you another drink?"

"Hmm…" Midori purses her lips thoughtfully. Pink, pretty. Kame puts another quick kiss on them and she smiles. "I thought maybe we should get going. It's a long cab ride back."

True. "Tell you what," Kame says. "You call for a cab and I get us a bottle and two glasses so we can party in the back seat."

*~*~*

"About those frogs," Midori says when the bottle is almost empty and they are almost home.

Kame blinks. "Yes?"

"And about the foreigners. I signed that anti-whaling petition that was going around the other day. I thought you should know."

"Oh. Right, okay," he says. "Thanks." Sometimes he gets asked about things his wife does, particularly if they are social or political things. He'd never stop her from doing what she thinks is right, but it's good to know when questions might come up.

And Midori is always ready to put her name and money where her beliefs are – it's one of the things he likes about her. Sometimes he helps out, other times he stays out of it.

"Is there anything you'd like me to do there, too?" he asks. He doesn't feel that strongly, and it's a controversial cause, not like helping orphans or cancer patients. But suddenly he wants to help.

She gives him a thoughtful look. "Only if you really want to. I don't think a signature is going to make all that much difference, and they don't seem to be well enough organized to take proper advantage of high-profile support."

"Well," he says as the cab turns off into residential streets at last. "Let me know if there is anything."

"I will," she smiles, and clinks her glass against his before draining it.

When they have arrived, he hurries around the car to help her as she unfolds herself from the seat in a flurry of scarves and coatfolds and, of course, that long dress. It earns him another smile and he doesn't know if it makes him happy or sad.

She leans into him as they rush up the path against the breeze that has turned chilly, laughing and a little unsteady on her heels. Her hand is warmer than his.

Inside the door, she turns and presses cool lips and a cold nose to the skin behind his ear, and he shivers a little and laughs.

It's been less than two weeks since the last time, when his alarm had to remind him. He's glad that he isn't too useless to realize that now would be a good moment, that it's the right thing for the mood.

At least tonight he can try to be a prince for her.

 

### Roppongi, Wednesday 24 December

Jin has to wait for the elevator for what feels like forever. It's a tall building, all steel and glass and marble. Even the uniform of the girl at reception looks stylish somehow.

She's watching him, trying to catch his eye with the sort of focus he knows how to read, but she's got Christmas wistfulness all over her, in her eyes and how they linger on what he's brought with him. She'll have no idea who he's going to see. They never dawdle in lobbies; part of not looking like a whore on assignment is breezing past the staff.

Jin's long past appreciating fancy hotel lobbies, prefers anonymous ones. Would be nice if they all looked like banks.

Then at last the elevator pings, releasing three men in suits who look like they're from a high level business meeting. One of them stares at Jin's mouth for just a second too long. Right.

He's not sure why, but he gives the receptionist a little smile when he gets going, and she smiles back sadly. He kind of hopes she's just bummed out she had to work tonight, that she's got a boyfriend she can celebrate with later. Jin is glad he doesn't care about Christmas.

Floor 25, room 2. There are few doors when he gets off the elevator, so it's easy to find. He stands still for a moment and takes a deep breath; stops himself from biting his lip because he doesn't like the taste of the gloss. Tadayoshi had this gig last year, and Jin's had a chat with him.

Then he knocks, and gets his smile ready, and when the guy opens he feels like a bad actor.

"Good evening," he says. "I'm Jin."

From the guy's stare, he did pretty okay.

His name is Honda; nothing to do with the cars, he adds as he takes Jin's coat. He's shorter, just a bit, but he must have known that from Jin's profile on the website.

"Excuse me," Honda says, looking straight into Jin's eyes like he's not at all diffident. "You look even more lovely than I expected."

Well, okay. Jin smiles at the guy, slouching a bit in that way that makes him smaller. "Thank you. I…" Honda is old but not too old, not really attractive but not hideous either, and he's wearing a pretty slick casual suit. That usually bodes well for hygiene. "I was very honoured by the invitation," he says.

Honda looks pleased. "Come in, come in," he gestures.

Jin saw at first glance that this is no ordinary room, but now he's taking the time to appreciate it properly. The style is slightly modern, but with some plush thrown in here and there for coziness, and Jin suspects the red-and-white colour scheme isn't just for Christmas. Honda's spent some money.

"This looks amazing," he says at Honda's expectant face. "What an impressive room." He looks around a little more, because Honda won't mind that.

The bed is let into a cozy corner, so low it might be a challenge for the more senior Johnny's clients. It looks like an alcove, the way it's right in front of the room's tallest window. There is a giant, vaguely heart-shaped bathtub in one corner, also with a view, and flower and stone arrangements that skate just past utterly horrible.

"I'm glad you like it," Honda says. "I was hoping…"

"I don't think I've ever been invited to this sort of room," Jin says. He feels fake and obvious, but maybe it's because it's true that Honda seems delighted. Not many guys ordering out would feel the need to book the honeymoon suite.

He blinks and puts on another smile. "I… brought us something too," he says, holding up his little parcel. "I hope you don't mind…"

Honda make a face of pleased surprise and takes the bag off Jin; he laughs when he's got the cake unwrapped. Takahisa recommended the bakery.

"I wanted to bring something too," Jin adds, smiling just enough. "Since we're celebrating Christmas together…" Someone better at this would probably do the whole feet-shuffling flirting better, too. Jin just looks at the ground, and hopes he hit the right tone there. It felt odd to spend money on a client, and slightly wrong, but with a date like this he also wanted to do a good job. It's a rest, after all. A bit of cake is well covered.

"How thoughtful of you," Honda says, beaming. "Of course we could have got some from room service, but this is much nicer." He holds on to the box and bows just a little, Jin bowing appropriately deeper. When they move along to the table, which is small for a room this fancy but set intimately for two, he's still looking at Jin like Jin is his best Christmas present.

*~*~*

Honda is a very polite client. The food is light and thoughtful, and chosen with the same spare-no-expense attitude as the room. He drinks moderately, is forthcoming about conversational topics and doesn't think he's funnier than he is. He's even good about cues.

He likes looking into Jin's eyes. He likes for Jin to comment on things like candles and wine and the gentle Christmas music, and his hand is working its shy way up to Jin's so obviously next to their long-stemmed wine glasses that Jin catches that one before it even happens, and can show some initiative. On a regular club date, these things are great; solid footing.

Jin feels not quite settled with Honda holding his hand over the table and tracing his fingers admiringly. But he doesn't feel as clumsy as he could have; it's good to know he's picking up the cues.

"I should let you eat," Honda apologizes, ducking his head and not looking as cute as he probably hopes as he disentangles their fingers, putting Jin's hand down as if it were a delicate thing.

Jin brushes his pinky against Honda's just so, not enough to seem bold. "Well," he tries, "I didn't come for the food."

Honda also likes it when Jin gets uncertain enough to blush. That's kind of useful.

"I don't… date a lot," Honda says after they've picked their way through a French dinner that Honda doesn't seem to find very interesting and that Jin can't have too much of before sex. "But I like to have a nice evening. On a night like this." Honda is smiling nervously, like it was another cue. Jin lowers his gaze and does the shy thing again; that seemed to work.

So he's literally the Christmas present. Good to know.

"I'm glad you asked for me," he says. He's said that one before. The key is not to listen to himself. "It's a very nice date."

Honda blinks, still smiling but without much expression. Okay, not that brilliant. But it shows Honda's not some jerk who's looking to be offended. Jin puts more feeling into his smile, and the moment passes.

They first kiss after Honda has shown him the spectacle of lights at Odaiba outside their window. Well, pointed them out, not like Jin couldn't see them perfectly well all through dinner, but Jin's not surprised; what Honda is going for is pretty obvious. And there's worse than some sad guy wanting some romance on Christmas. Jin reminds himself he's letting people fuck him for a living so he probably doesn't get to judge.

They both taste of wine and the kiss is okay. Jin's had a lot worse. The guy is happy when Jin initiates the second one.

Jin gets them on the couch too, because it's less work than standing up and trying to be shorter than he is, and Honda is shy, almost painfully shy the first time he touches Jin below the neck. If he touched a boyfriend like that, it would be sweet.

"I'm glad you're here," Honda whispers against his neck, and Jin says the appropriate thing back. His urge is to move them towards hot and sweaty faster, just to get a move on, but he reins that in.

They move apart almost primly. Honda is really not a pushy guy.

"I like doing something special, too," Jin says, and maybe that was the magic word, because Honda looks practically enchanted. Jin leans back a bit, in that way that seems to work for a lot of guys, and tries to put some suggestion into his gaze to say it's still okay with the romance thing if Honda is interested in fucking soon.

He is; Jin can tell, he's learned those looks, and a few kisses in Honda pulls back again to ask, "Would you… would you like to take a shower?"

Jin's fine with that.

It gives him five minutes alone; not that he needs them, but it feels good to stop smiling and move without acting. He rinses off and wraps himself in a red-and-white bathrobe. Puts some gloss back on before he goes out again, and doesn't wrap the robe too tightly over his chest.

Honda wears that transfixed smile again when Jin head straights towards him, and he's still got a hard-on.

"You were quick," he says in a shaky voice.

Jin just smiles back, and steps close. "What about you?" he asks, and lets his fingers trail up Honda's arms. He doesn't have to wonder or be cautious here, doesn't have to ask; he got what's expected. He makes it a soft kiss above the man's collar, closes his eyes and breathes more cautiously when there's an intimate scent of cologne.

Honda makes it look like it's hard to tear himself away from Jin, but he's an all around traditionalist. Good; it's always better when they shower even if they're not horrible.

Jin sits on the bed to wait, and stares off into space a little. Then he's ready when the door opens, and does his best to give the guy the sort of happy look he's hoping for as he rises.

At least it's easy from there, and the sex is just the normal kind of lie.

*~*~*

Afterwards, they take a bath together. Turns out Honda doesn't go to bed at ten when he's paid for all-night fun. That's fair enough. Jin makes sure their legs are touching; his client is still smiling and pleased with the romance notions, but there's a moment when he leans back, waiting, like something's supposed… oh, okay.

Jin smiles again when he rearranges himself, it's a misunderstanding easily sorted out. He ends up with his head on the guy's chest. It's damp, or maybe sweaty, but there's nothing but the milky rose scent of the water in his nose. Honda seems happy.

At least it's okay to be quiet. Just the water rippling softly, Honda's hands trickling water over his shoulder now and then. Jin might even like that, it's nice when things are quiet and he can spend some time with his own thoughts, and he can even like being more than just a random body to someone, if it weren't for the romance stuff.

Eventually Honda's hands start to travel. Jin becomes aware of more desire floating around him, just as one of them brushes over his cock.

God. Some dates once is a struggle. Most guys Jin knows don't expect you to get off again even if they have two rounds, know what's realistic when you're not as sex-starved as they are in their closets.

Jin turns his face down against Honda's chest and gives a sigh that will sound pleased.

It takes a while for anything to happen. Rest, Jin thinks. This guy's once-a-year treat.

So he moves in the way that helps and closes his eyes, and in the end when he's spread out on his back in front of Honda he manages to think of nothing, nothing in his head but his own breathing and the splash of the water; manages to shiver for the guy, and hold on to him when he finally comes.

He gets some woozy minutes to recover, but they're part of the romantic fiction and it's worse than usual; he's exhausted, and he wants to be home. Honda is petting him like it was nothing short of perfection.

They fuck again on the bed later, dried off and hot from the water, with Honda taking his time, enjoying each minute. Jin remembers he once liked it this lazy, the slow times with Naoki when Jin was done and just watching, feeling, and he knows that's a fucking stupid thought to have and he doesn't remember why he's even thinking it.

Eventually they're done, and Jin almost gets his body back to himself. There's more of the cuddling and Jin wonders if the man is about to fall asleep, but then it turns out he has to go to work tomorrow, and doesn't need a whore around for breakfast and distractions.

He's very wistful about it, and the goodbyes are long and apologetic and full of gratitude. Jin's not sure what he feels when Honda is leaning in the doorway in his bathrobe, watching Jin put on shoes and coat with longing and contentment.

He'll be glad to get home.

It's cold in the elevator. Jin stares at the lights snapping past with an empty head.

There's an older woman who pays him no mind behind the reception desk now; the girl from before is gone. Somehow that's a shame. Jin wonders if she'd have felt better seeing that he's leaving even though he had cake and a costume and a guy who bought him champagne; that it was all just someone's delusion anyway.


	33. Chapter 33

### Sunday 28 December

Jin marches through Kame's dingy neighbourhood, wrapped up tight in scarf and gloves and clinging to his umbrella for dear life. He's keeping his chin down against an unforgiving wind. His ears are cold, which sucks. Can't put a beanie over good escort hair. Though he might as well have, the damp chill's not doing him any favours.

Then he's finally at the gate between the hedges where Kame buzzes him in, and he hurries up the stairs.

Kame is waiting at the door. Unfazed by the cold, just in some thin smart shirt. At first Jin thinks his hair is wet, before he realizes it's just darker. Jin smiles without thinking, warming up under his layers with a little blush.

"Hi," he says, and realizes then it's muffled by the scarf.

Kame waves him in quickly. The quiet is resounding when he shuts the door on the weather.

"Hi," Kame says. "I hope you took a taxi."

"Uh," Jin says. Taxis are for when he's desperate to get home after midnight. If he took one every time the weather's a bit uncomfortable… well; he doesn't suck cocks so he can pass the cash on to cab drivers. "It wasn't so bad."

He's pulled off the gloves and resists the urge to huff hot air on his fingertips. Unwinding the scarf takes a bit, as he pulled it tighter than he's probably supposed to with these cashmere things.

"Anyway, I wrapped up well," he says when he sees Kame frowning. "Can't usually do that when I have to dress up." For other clients, clients who haven't told him it's okay to dress comfortably.

Kame gets it and smiles.

Jin hopes he likes the clothes on him, too. He had to go buy them new, not that he's going to mention that. All he had until three days ago was stuff that's okay for the bar and the baggy faded jeans he likes to wear around the house. T-shirts and chunky sweaters. Not what any client means when they say comfortable, not even Kame.

"You look really good," Kame says. "I mean, not that… but you look good."

"Thanks." Jin smiles back, hoping Kame won't apologize again for accidentally looking at him, and while he's fully dressed to boot.

He's gone with the olive green slacks and the light beige shirt for a first try, and the snazzy black denim jacket he kind of liked himself. He told the shop lady he was invited to a casual dinner with his boss. Now he's got three outfits at home that all need him to get better acquainted with his washing machine. He'll stop thinking of them as Kame clothes soon, too; they're just useful to have.

"Do you know what you want to eat?" Kame asks once Jin has followed the invitation to sit on the couch, dumping his bag somewhere it's not in the way. It's heavier than usual; this time he's better prepared. "I waited with ordering. But I skipped lunch…" He makes an apologetic face.

"You shouldn't do that," Jin says, nervous despite himself. "I'd rather not count your ribs."

Kame laughs. "No worries, last time I had the full set. My fat reserves are seeing me through."

Yeah, Kame's mountains of fat.

Jin knows Kame's selection of restaurants and also knows Kame won't let him see the menus, because those have prices on them.

"What do you want to eat?" he asks.

"It's really all the same to me. Pick what you like."

Jin gives him another careful look, but Kame is just relaxed. "Okay. Italian then. That pasta selection, that was good."

"Same shop, different selection?" Kame unfolds the little brochure and picks his phone off the coffee table. "Or did you want the exact same things?"

"Hmm," Jin says. "Spaghetti? With a hot sauce?"

Kame's eyebrows seem to have an opinion on that. "They have very nice spinach and gorgonzola ravioloni. And Cajun Prawn linguine."

"I like spaghetti with sauce," Jin says. He pats the leather sofa. "I promise not to get it all over your furniture."

"That's not what—" Kame breaks off, and smiles. Of course it's not what he meant, he knows Jin knows that. "Okay, but is there anything else you want?"

In the end they settle on getting the ravioloni, too, because Jin doesn't know what gorgonzola tastes like, and a couple of slices of sandcrab lasagna with roast almonds and parmesan.

"And some bruschetta for starters," Kame finishes off the order on the telephone, and Jin catches himself thinking that that's really a lot, and a big waste if half of it is for the bin or the cat, until he remembers that Kame freezes things.

"So," Kame says, looking busy even empty-handed and sitting down. It's cute, and Jin knows eventually he'll unwind. "How about drinks?"

Jin leans back as much as he can without slumping. He's been looking forward to this all week.

*~*~*

Kame's stomach grumbles now and then, and Jin tries not to laugh every time. They catch up first over a beer and then after the distribution of dishes, and some more after Kame has polished off half his first serving within two minutes. Then things slow down again.

"So this is your more normal sort of schedule?" Jin says. "No lunch, changing hours…"

"More or less, yes. But sometimes I get off early too."

Jin knows he means last time, their unexpected date at the club. "The thing with the phone was a really good idea," he says. "I'm glad we got to see each other."

"Me too," Kame says, with a fervour that makes Jin wonder, but he doesn't know how to ask.

"How was your Christmas?" he says. He hadn't wanted to ask about plans beforehand, it would have sounded weird. And maybe misleading.

Kame pokes his fork into a piece of lasagna and shrugs. "It was… nice. We went to a restaurant, and then we went to a party. Midori has nice friends. So it was…" He licks his lips as he lifts the fork to his mouth. "…nice."

And then he's chewing on his lasagna rather harder than oven-baked pasta usually warrants.

Nice, then. All right. Jin's not going to ask any more about that.

"How about you?" Kame says as soon as he's swallowed.

"I don't really do Christmas." Jin's prepared the answer, and the smile to go with it. "Just work, the usual."

Kame pauses for a brief moment, and maybe Jin hasn't practiced well enough after all. But Kame doesn't push. He nods, several times, and the next thing he says is, "More spaghetti?"

Jin is happy to say yes to that.

"The club is closed on New Year's, isn't it?" Kame asks as he serves Jin more pasta.

"Yes." Jin hasn't thought much about it; doesn't really want to say much about it, either. Christmas turned out to be a big party, the famous Takki-san visiting with Tsubasa and strawberry cakes. Jin's not sad he missed it. "It wouldn't make much sense to open, pretty much everyone's with their families."

Kame nods. "We're going to see my parents, too. They worry about my ribs almost as much as you do."

Well, good for him. Jin nods, and eats.

When Kame says "You…" he feels himself freezing up because this, he hasn't prepared, and he doesn't want to do that thing he did when Kame asked after Naoki, that was dumb.

He gulps his pasta down and shakes his head and doesn't look up, and Kame says no more. And finally Jin's brain kicks back in, and he asks, "Do you have any brothers and sisters? How many of you will there be?"

Kame is quick. Doesn't ask, doesn't wait, just launches into an account of how he's a single child who always wanted a younger sister to tease, and when he was six he thought he'd want to meet her girl friends, and when he was ten he thought it would be great to ask her about how to get his hair to look cool. How his parents have this big dog called Ran-chan who is not bright but very sweet and inconveniently fond of tongue-bathing sleeping visitors.

And he doesn't ask about Jin and his siblings or his pets, just talks, and somehow Jin manages to have another helping of pasta and relax again, and then they're done and there's that lovely drink.

Jin takes his glass and feels like smiling. Nice to know they can handle these moments; that they're helping each other out.

*~*~*

"I like your hair," Jin says. They're putting the rest of the food into little boxes together before Kame takes custody of the apparently sole dish towel. "You look different when it's black like that."

"I hope that's a good thing," Kame says playfully, but then shrugs. "I was a bit uncertain. I've had it lighter for ages." He puts the large serving plate away and closes the cupboard. "I think it makes me look kind of severe. But, well, the job."

Jin leans against the kitchen counter. Kame's not wrong; the dark hair sharpens the angles of his face, makes his jaw seem stronger. But it's hard to find anything severe about Kame when he's polishing glasses and frowning at how best to stack his coffee mugs while making sure Jin's not doing any of the work.

"I think it makes you look a little older," Jin says. "But not in a bad way. It looks good. I like it."

Kame hesitates a moment and doesn't say the normal flippant things about the age comment. "Thank you."

"I'm glad they didn't make you shave your head, though."

Kame gives a short, giddy-sounding laugh. "So am I." His eyes scan Jin cautiously and Jin thinks it would be totally fine if Kame kissed him right now. Only of course he doesn't. "Have you ever messed around with hair colour?" he asks, folding the towel twice before he hangs it up.

Jin takes a moment to think. He's touchy on those issues, he knows that. But he just shakes his head. "I never felt daring with it, really." And getting it changed now would just be like giving up another part of himself. "I kind of like it dark." He smiles, and from the way Kame's looking at him, he likes it too.

"It looks good," Kame says. "And at least you never have to worry about your roots showing."

Jin shudders. "God, yeah. It's enough hassle as it is." Then he catches up with his words and bites his lip.

Kame is breaking into a grin. "I see."

"No, seriously!" Jin waves his hands. "I mean, I want it to look nice, really. So I do all the stuff with the blow dryer and the foam and then you have a day like this, and after five minutes outside I look like I just got up!" He runs his fingers through his hair and sure enough, they're all tangled already, and god knows how they'll be sticking up now. "It's just… it sucks. This weather sucks."

"It's a bad hair day, yeah." Kame nods understandingly, peering up at his fringe, which looks totally great.

" _And_ I start freezing the moment I step out the door," Jin says, "even though I've got a nice coat now." He glares at the weather through Kame's wide balcony door.

"It kind of creeps in, yeah."

"Not that there'd be any _point_ going out there because it's all dull and cloudy and miserable anyway." He sighs, and then looks at Kame, who's somewhere between amused and intrigued.

"Sorry," Kame says, though at least he doesn't sound as if he's really taking the blame for the weather. "We just have to find something nice to do inside."

Jin tilts his head, slowly enough that he can see the flush stealing into Kame's face again. "I'm certainly up for suggestions," he says.

"Good," Kame says, despite the nervousness in his hands when he tears open the foil on a dishwasher tab. "How do you feel about watching a movie?"

*~*~*

Kame lets him pick.

There's a stack of Japanese films; the top ten of this year, Kame says, and while Jin is looking at one about, apparently, three puppies, he wonders what people go to see in the cinema. Not that he has anything against puppies but maybe not while he's watching TV with Kame… There's also a stack of American ones and Jin recognizes the James Bond, and the pirate film he mentioned to Kame on their last date.

"I got various things, I wasn't sure what you'd like," Kame says.

Wait a minute. Jin blinks up from the blurb about an animated mermaid. "You bought all these?" It's all Blu-ray, too.

"Yes, I don't have a big selection around here," Kame says apologetically. "And I haven't got the hang of internet renting yet. This is kind of what looked good."

Right.

Jin doesn't want to count them, but he does; he doesn't want to add up what it must have cost, but he can't help it. And it's really nothing to what Kame pays for a date with him, but…

"You could just have called me and asked." Before he spent a hundred thousand on movies. Jin looks briefly at one about some cellist turned undertaker which sounds like a package deal of depressing and boring.

"It's no big deal, really," Kame says easily, and Jin doesn't know how… he doesn't know what to say. It's not like it's a crime to be stinking rich and have no idea what money is worth.

So he says nothing.

Beside him, Kame stops sorting through the boxes. "What is it?"

Jin hesitates. But… no. "Not my place to say." It sounds sulkier than he intended. Only that's it, too; that's exactly it.

"Don't be silly."

That makes him look up. Kame, who's so careful… and yeah, Kame looks like he's wishing he could take that back, and it looks kind of cute and Jin has to smile after all, and suddenly it's easier.

"It's just, you don't really think about it," Jin says. "How much money that is. And you don't have to, I mean, it's yours and all that, and you're probably good for the economy, but when I see that, I'm just… I just get nervous."

Kame is fingering the spines of the DVD sleeves. "I'm sorry about that… I guess I'm not used to thinking about it like that. It doesn't hurt me to spend money on… on these dates with you. I like doing it." He looks at Jin and Jin wishes guilt weren't just so readily available that it filled in randomly for any confused moment.

"I really like our dates," he says quickly. "And I like… the stuff you plan. Watching movies is a great idea." But Kame's not believing him; Kame thinks he's being a polite whore, backpedaling. "And you're right, and it's really not your problem and I shouldn't have said anything."

Kame is holding himself very still, like he knows he did something wrong and doesn't know what, and he'll spend the next few hours thinking he did something to Jin and… that's really not fair.

"I didn't have a lot of money before this gig," Jin says in a single, even breath. "That's all. It's weird for me but I'm not normal." He tries a smile when Kame is still staring. "Let's just have a good night, okay? I've been looking forward to this all week." He stops himself from fidgeting. He hadn't meant to put it this bluntly, not when it's the truth.

But it was worth it, because Kame is no longer looking like he's one of those three puppies and Jin abandoned him by the roadside. "You have?"

Jin nods tightly. He won't say it again.

"I really looked forward to seeing you too," Kame says. "I… maybe I went a bit overboard…"

"No." For Jin, the topic is dead. It's his own problem, and no reason why he should make it Kame's. "Thank you for getting such a selection. There's probably enough there for several evenings."

Kame's smile is real now, and like they found the perfect solution together. "That's entirely possible."

"So… for now…" Jin glances through the line-up again very quickly. "How do you feel about aliens?"

*~*~*

Will Smith is cool.

Jin tries not to shield his eyes when the aliens attack the American cities and there is a lot of horrible burning and people dying. He wonders if they could talk over those bits and Kame wouldn't notice, but then the worst of it is past and it gets less tense as a lot of people reunite with each other in a desert somewhere. Even the dog has survived.

He sneaks a look at Kame, who seems to agree about Will Smith, and who's moved back to beer for the movie just like Jin. He's put out snacks; pickles and the white chocolates from that other time and wasabi peas. Jin can't have too much of it, he doesn't want to feel bloated when they go to bed, but now and then he succumbs to the seaweed crackers. And pickles have hardly any calories, anyway.

That alien is super-creepy, though.

"What would have happened if they'd blown up the Palace?" he asks. "Or the Diet building?"

"Hmm, I don't know," Kame says. "I guess there'd be a big panic, too." He's frowning. "I don't know who'd actually be in charge."

"Godzilla," Jin suggests.

Kame bursts out laughing, a surprised happy sound over the gloomy music. While he's recovering Jin has some of the wasabi peas after all and ignores the military guys and their scary plans for a moment. "Seriously, though, you'd think at least Tokyo would have practice."

"Yeah, years of giant monsters ransacking the city."

"There was probably a whole second movie about Tokyo going on."

"The new Godzilla-SDF alliance."

Jin tries not to snort out beer; it's unbecoming when you're supposed to be a pretty escort. But this is cool, hanging out like any two guys, watching movies. Guy movies, even. With things blowing up.

"Do you like action movies?" he asks.

"Hmm," Kame says again. He's angling for the peas too. "I think it really depends on my mood. It can be fun when there's lots going on to hold your attention."

Jin kind of likes the heroic stuff. He's not so keen on the slaughter. But he's still not saying that. "I like the effects, they're pretty cool."

"It must be interesting to act in something like that," Kame muses. When Jin tilts his head, he explains, "I've never done CGI or greenscreen. It must be weird to act when there's nothing really there yet. But I'd like to try it."

"Yeah, that sounds weird. But I'm sure you'd be good at it," Jin says; and then it strikes him that this sounds straight from the busy escort's guide to flirting, only he actually means it. Thankfully Kame can tell.

"Maybe one day I'll get a chance to find out," he says.

They probably used a lot of greenscreen for those aliens, too, and now the movie is picking up again, enough so that that lady dying doesn't become too much of a downer.

They both go for the rice crackers at the same time, and just grin at each other.

On the screen, Will Smith is getting married to the stripper.

*~*~*

It ends with people cheering all over the world. Jin approves of that sort of ending. Much better than films about undertakers, he's sure. Kame brings him another beer, then settles comfortably in the corner.

"Good choice," he says.

Jin raises his beer. "Likewise."

"Though the Americans must have much cooler politicians than we do."

Jin tries not to imagine Tsukada fitting himself into a fighter jet, but fails, and his giggles must give him away because Kame starts laughing too.

"Do you keep any of your own movies around?" Jin asks. "Or dramas? Do you ever watch them again?"

"I get copies, of course," Kame says. "But I don't really enjoy watching myself, it's too stressful."

"Constant nitpicking?"

Kame squirms. "How did you guess?"

"I wonder," Jin says. He takes a thoughtful sip, studying Kame's profile. "So if somebody asked you which of your movies and dramas you'd recommend, you wouldn't actually know?"

Kame fixes him with a long, suspicious sideways look. He keeps it up until Jin has to laugh.

"I'd thank that person to avoid the one with the do-gooder schoolboy, or the yakuza schoolboy, or the schoolboy who was a ghost," he says, and Jin grins.

"So the ones with the med student or the prosecutor or that geeky office guy or the construction guy or the trapeze artist or—"

"Oh god," Kame says faintly.

Jin's looked at some DVD covers. He quite fancies the construction guy. Kame was about his age then and looked much more raw in it, like somebody Jin could have been friends with, someone from his neighbourhood. The prosecutor is polished and pretty, and somebody you'd like to have on your side. Kame looked pretty much like he does now then, only his hair was hazel.

He really likes the black.

"So… would it be okay with you if I watched some of your things?" he asks. He doesn't want it to be weird.

Kame is playing with his beer bottle. "Sure." Kame's beer bottle is always a good indication of his comfort level, but he meets Jin's eyes. "Sure. Just remember I didn't write the scripts, okay?"

"Of course," Jin says easily. "And I'm really not nitpicky at all, I promise."

Kame slumps back with more crackers and his beer, and nods with more confidence. His shirt has gone crumpled, and his hair is starting to lose shape with the lounging on the couch. He looks almost like a normal guy; not a construction guy, but someone who works at an office, someone you'd meet at random if you're lucky.

He'd still have all the secretaries pining for him, though.

Jin wants to brush the hair out of his face and know if it feels different now, too.

"What?" Kame asks.

Jin makes an innocent face. "I'm just checking you out."

"I se— what?"

Kame stares as if Jin just suggested they should do it on the coffee table. Funny guy. Jin tilts his head and waits, and eventually Kame is smiling, too. Better.

"Hey," Jin says after a bit of quiet contemplation. "Can I touch your hair?"

At least Kame doesn't seem shocked this time. "Of course," he says, and shifts closer. Jin decides that even closer is even better.

Kame's hair doesn't feel any different when he runs his fingers up through it on one side and pushes a strand back. Still soft, light. They must give good treatment with those dye jobs.

"And?" Kame says, his voice low because they're not far apart now. "What's the verdict?"

"Nice," Jin says, letting the ends slip from his fingers. "And this touching stuff is good. We should do more of it."

Kame blinks up at him; Jin is kneeling next to him, taller, and when Kame doesn't object or distract, Jin puts his hand on Kame's hip, leans just a bit like… yeah.

His hands feel shy touching Jin back, sliding up to his hips and pulling him closer, and when Jin cards through Kame's hair more slowly there's a sigh, like something is coming loose inside him.

"No objection here," Kame says, right before Jin kisses him, and after that Kame gets very quick and efficient about getting his legs up on the couch and stretching out more, so they can lie properly against each other.

It's comfy, and easy. The night is running late but Kame's in no hurry at all, and he smiles up at Jin when Jin traces his muscles through the shirt fabric, as if they couldn't just get naked.

Jin plays with Kame's top button and then modestly leaves it closed, which makes them both laugh between more kisses.

And Kame's arms feel good around him; it's the first time they don't have to hold his weight off Jin, are just wrapping around him. He likes that Kame feels strong like this, when you don't always know it from looking at him.

Kame's hands in Jin's hair are as gentle as after, but he'll enjoy it more once he's done his job. Kame's breath speeds up as the kisses get deeper, and Jin can feel the tension all over, the first time Kame really tries for friction. Yes, he was right. It was time.

*~*~*

The setting Kame has made him for the shower is just right. Jin doesn't stay long now that Kame is getting eager, but he likes it anyway.

And when he's stepped out of the shower and dried off, he reaches for the bathrobe, and that's even nicer. Kame has bought it new for… guests, Jin wants to remind himself, but when he's honest he doesn't really think Kame's going to offer it to other escorts after Jin has worn it. It feels comfy, in any case, and is a beautiful deep red. Jin won't even need the sweatpants he brought.

Kame smiles when Jin comes out. He's still dressed, with a water bottle in hand.

"Thank you," Jin says, brushing down the front of the robe. "It's very comfortable."

"It suits you," Kame just says, and then, "I'll be right back. You just… you know. Help yourself to stuff."

Yeah, Jin knows how it works by now.

He takes the liberty to turn the lights a little lower while Kame is in the bathroom. Then he contemplates the bed, and takes off the bathrobe. They've been messing around for a while now; Kame might like not having to unpeel him first. Or be surprised. And Jin's comfortable, and ready for this.

He still feels a little funny sitting naked on the bed, just waiting, and he resists the urge to dangle his feet over the edge.

He even likes the sound of the pipes; it feels cozy and promising.

He thinks of Kame coming out and he thinks of what Kame likes. It's easy to get turned on with Kame, who's really good at stuff and pays attention, and who feels better than other clients. And Kame really likes making him feel good too.

Jin puts his hand on his dick and pulls a little. He doesn't have to, but suddenly he likes the idea that Kame is going to get that flustered, pleased look when he comes to the bed, that he'll know Jin's looking forward to getting close with him.

So he gets himself just a little hard, a little prettier, and he's leaning back comfortably when Kame comes out in his own bathrobe, the blue one with the red stripes.

"Hey," he says. "I liked my settings, by the way. Thank you for that."

"I'm glad." Kame's eyes travel over him; still with that nervous blink as if he's not allowed. Jin might feel self-conscious as the only one naked, if it weren't for that. If he didn't want Kame to stop doing that.

But at least he doesn't have to prompt undressing. Kame slips out of his bathrobe quickly and then he kneels on the bed. Jin gets a warm little jolt from Kame's muscles and the way he moves.

"Do you want to get under the covers?" he asks Jin, touching him at the waist, somewhere safe. "To, well, keep warm?"

Jin slides an arm around Kame and pulls. "I think I'm warm enough. But come see for yourself."

Kame laughs as Jin rolls him over, all the way on his back, and then Jin is covering Kame again and Kame doesn't seem to mind at all. It's different; Jin's never tried this. Maybe he shouldn't have waited for Kame to ask for different things; maybe it's good just to do them.

He kisses Kame slowly and with intent; feels strain and desire as he pushes against Kame's tongue, and hot breath between them but no move to switch them around, for Kame to take over like he always does.

When Jin breaks off he's grinning, and harder than he was, now that Kame's hands are pressing at the small of his back and holding him tight. "I think you owe me a rib count," he mumbles against Kame's lips.

Kame's giggles are shuddering against him. "I didn't think you'd come collect," he breathes.

"Just making sure," Jin says, squirming against Kame's erection.

Suddenly the pressure is gone from his back. Kame drops his arms over his head. "Okay then. Go ahead."

Jin tries to stop grinning as he runs a finger against the most prominent bone on Kame's chest. Then he leans down, follows with his mouth, and Kame twitches.

"That one seems to be in good shape," he finds.

"Meaty enough?" Kame enquires.

Jin props his chin up, but traces the next one too. "Hmmm. Acceptable. But the doctor recommends some more pasta."

"I guess that could be worse," Kame says, voice disappearing when Jin's mouth starts counting again, tracking the complete number before Kame is boneless and a little shivery.

"Approved," Jin says, but doesn't make the joke last, just dips his head again and flicks the tip of his tongue across Kame's nipple.

Kame draws in a sharp breath.

"You like that," Jin peers up, just to check.

Kame's fingers stroke the hair out of his face. His face is flushed, his eyes soft. "It… works for me."

"Good." Jin runs a teasing hand down Kame's side and Kame thrusts against him readily, less cautious now than when he's the one setting their pace. On the next move Jin puts his whole mouth against the nipple and sucks.

That's that settled, he thinks when Kame gasps; and it's fun when he gets him to do it more than once and turn almost twitchy under him.

"You feel really good," he says when he's discovered Kame likes having his neck kissed too. It's turning Jin on just to figure out this stuff and to have Kame wriggle against him, pressing their hips tight together whenever Jin finds a good spot.

"I can't complain either," Kame says, and his hands come back down, spread out sweaty on Jin's back. The next time Jin lifts his head Kame holds his eyes for a long smiling moment. "You feel great."

Jin drops his head, making Kame laugh when he kisses Kame's collarbone. It feels adventurous.

Kame's skin is hot now, all over, no distance between them. And Jin is moving on, because he likes Kame this careless, doesn't need him thinking again, and he feels good to Kame, Kame is melting under his mouth. And they can do other stuff.

He pays attention to the nipples on his way down, to Kame's rising chest, and he gets past the bellybutton where Kame is still smooth and hairless, pressing soft kisses on his way.

He can feel the exact moment when Kame catches on. It's like all the ease solidifying under him; Kame's whole body on alert.

Jin looks up. "You don't like it?" he asks, and he hopes he sounds calm enough to hide how nervous he is.

"No, that's not…" For a moment Kame tenses up like he's about to move away, but then he settles, with concentration. "I like it," he admits. "But we don't have to, it's not necessary."

That again. "But we can," Jin says, ignoring the silly part. He slips his hand down slowly enough that Kame can stop him if he really wants to, but Kame doesn't; just bites his lip when Jin wraps his hand around him.

Weird to think that this is the first time he really touches Kame's cock. Weird how much it suddenly seems to matter. He touches guys' cocks every day.

"I'm really… I'd like to do this," he says. It's the truth; he wouldn't lie now. And he knows what Kame's thinking and why his eyes are dark and troubled. But it's not the same.

He gives Kame a little stroke and Kame's hips jerk before he makes himself still; barely breathing. Then he brushes the hair out of Jin's eyes again, like he needs to know; urgently.

Not even close to the same.

Jin smiles, then bends his head and gives the tip a little lick, just enough to prove his point. When he looks up to see, Kame has closed his eyes.

"I think you're liking it," Jin says; Kame looks back at him instantly. At last he cracks a little smile.

"I just worry…" he says with barely a sound.

Jin nods. "I know. But it's different." He almost wants to get back up there, he thinks Kame could maybe do with him there. "It's not bad for me. Don't think that."

And at last Kame touches him again, light hands on his arms and a nervous trail of fingers. Good sign, Jin thinks, and holds Kame's eyes as much as he can before he gives him another lick; tries a bit of suction, and there's a breath and more heat now, Kame's cock thickening.

He takes a brief, considered pause; finds Kame's eyes. "Maybe you could just stop worrying for a bit." And he waits just enough, until he sees Kame _get_ it and he feels the change, the worst of the tension unraveling.

He opens his mouth and goes down, all the way, and there's a little sound from Kame he hasn't heard before, all small and desperate.

It's exciting; Jin can't remember the last time he listened this hard, was so keen on the reactions.

The rest is what it is. He does it so often it doesn't matter anymore. Only _Kame_ feels new like this and _that_ matters, and when Kame makes a thin airless sound, Jin knows he wants more of that, to get it louder, he wants Kame to let go.

He tries around; has to because even though Kame is hard he's also thinking and being so, so careful. Those little twitches, quickly suppressed like he doesn't know that Jin can take much more, doesn't know Jin does this daily for people less nice and less sweet about it than him. Like it's new for both of them.

He thinks how easy it used to be to get Kame off with his mouth, he barely had to do anything. Didn't get to do anything.

Another gasp; and when Jin licks his cock in a long tease, Kame laughs and it doesn't sound strained. He feels Kame's thighs shiver sometimes, spread out and easy, and the flutters in his body, the warmth and the sweat and the way Kame's never trusted them both like this before, and Jin wants to get it right, he wants to give Kame a great blow job.

And he wants to play. Just a bit more, just for himself. See what Kame does when he slows down, _way_ down, how he flushes when Jin tells him it's okay to look; watch just what gets Kame harder, his tongue flat up from the base or around the top… and then the stuff he finds out, like how Kame will shiver when Jin brushes the insides of his thighs while he plays with his tongue against the slit.

He never had time to do all that before. ****

"You're not getting bored?" Kame asks shakily when their eyes meet again. That's just typical – worries when he's taking it fast, worries when they're taking it slow. Jin doesn't sigh.

"Do I look like I'm bored?"

For a moment Kame seems to consider it a serious question; until Jin gives him a pained look and Kame smiles and says, "I don't know. It's kind of fuzzy from up here," and that makes it all right. Makes it great.

"Official report," Jin declares, which is a funny thing to do when you're lying between a guy's legs with his cock in your hand. "Not bored."

"I'll put it in the minutes," Kame says on a brave nod, and Jin is grinning even as he gets his head down and really starts to suck.

Slow, focussed, setting a rhythm. A flick across the top and then down again, coming up tight. Steady.

And holds that, pace and pressure and the ease of practice, and Kame moving with him, the jerks turning sharper as Jin gets more insistent. For a moment he worries if he should ask, if Kame wants this to go where it's going, and then there's a sigh, broken and loud and breathing out on his name.

They're good. They're doing this.

He picks it up, slick sounds blurring with Kame's breathing, and he can feel it, not much of this now, if only Kame would…

"Jin, I—" A gasp. "I'm really close, is it okay—"

He doesn't have to think; doesn't want to, just spreads his hands out on Kame's hips, so Kame knows there's room to move and room to go for it, and brings his tongue up hard on the next slide and Kame is shaking, forgetting caution at last, his thrusts high and unthinking and making Jin shiver, and then it's done.

Jin slows down at once, swallowing all and holding on to Kame's hips. He's panting too when he pulls off carefully, when he lifts his head to peer up at Kame.

Kame, all exhausted and trembling and still breathing fast. One of his hands reaches out randomly, fingers catching on Jin's hair. Jin moves up a bit more, sinks slowly down next to Kame so he's easier to find, and covers Kame's shrinking cock cautiously with his hand.

Kame's flailing arm wraps around him and pulls, pulls until Jin's face is up next to his and Jin leans in for the kiss Kame wants, deep and soft and sweet. When they come apart Kame is smiling, his limbs heavy and hazy as he pulls Jin to him all over, stroking through Jin's hair when Jin rests his head on Kame's chest. He can hear Kame's heart pulsing fast underneath. Smiling to himself, he holds still, feeling Kame's breaths warm and tickling, the heat of Kame's body.

At least all that stuff he knows is good for something.

He's gotten hard too. That's a new one. But so was Kame letting go like this, lying back without so many second thoughts.

He wonders if Kame can feel it; shifts just a little to avoid it becoming a distraction. Kame would just feel he has to deal with it, and Jin wants to stay like this longer.

He gets his wish; Kame's fingers grow drowsy in his hair as Kame's heartbeat slows, and finally Kame's hand settles at the back of his neck.

"Thank you," Kame says. "That was… I hope that was okay? It wasn't… I wasn't too—"

"It was fine," Jin says. "You were fine. I'm fine. Everything's good. Did you like it?"

A faint laugh on a breath. "I did. Thank you."

"Good," Jin says, and then they are quiet again for a bit. Kame's thumb is stroking little circles over his skin.

Jin can tell Kame's starting to think again when the circles become distracted, more erratic. He turns his head up; just to be helpful, he figures, just to make sure the thoughts are still the right kind, the good kind; and Kame's lips are soft and lazy again, and Jin feels a sharp little pull when their tongues meet.

Seems like Kame noticed, because there's a smile against his mouth now, and a soft nudge against Jin's side for him to roll on his back while the kiss deepens. Kame leans over him, his free hand brushing along Jin's chest.

"I think," Kame says in between two kisses, "it's your turn now." He looks like he's had an idea he's pleased with.

Jin can't help smiling back; he loves how easy Kame sounds about it, and that little pull goes deeper when Kame pushes his hips against Jin's, some playful pressure.

"Okay," he says. He doesn't want to say he already got what he likes the most, which has nothing to do with sex. This feels fine too.

Kame brings his mouth down on Jin's neck, hot and bold and god, effective; Kame knows what works and likes to work with that. And Kame makes him arch his back, with his tongue swirling around on wet skin and the hot steady thrusts against him, and that pressure on his dick is not a bad thing either.

"You feel amazing," Kame whispers, moving down slowly, mouth against Jin's throat. "I love the way you taste."

Jin keeps his hands on Kame's shoulders, keeps his eyes closed and his thoughts slow and fuzzy, until… Kame is licking across one of his nipples. And then there's a pause.

Jin opens his eyes, to the cutest look of concentration on Kame's face he's seen. "Sorry," he says. "They're kind of boring."

Kame looks up with his hand suddenly still.

"It's fine if you touch them," Jin explains, "they just don't really do much."

Kame makes a face of understanding. He eyes them curiously, dragging his fingertips around them in a ticklish light pattern, and Jin feels _that_ , whether it's his nipples or not. "Not boring, though," Kame says. "They're really, um. Hot."

Jin breaks into a grin. "They like you too. They just don't know how to show it."

Kame blinks, then bursts out laughing, a cool tease where Jin's skin is wet. "Really," he says, and bends down for a friendly lick, which feels nice even though it's not a turn-on.

They get a little better acquainted, Kame and Jin's nipples, and once Kame tries some nibbling it's not boring at all.

And then tingling when Kame kisses down to his belly, two strong arms on each side of him and Kame's hair falling forward, Kame's hand sneaking along Jin's side and ass, and Jin props his feet up a little, tries not to strain when Kame's stomach slides against his cock.

Next it's Kame's chest, just for a brief moment before Kame props himself up higher and looks at him.

The focus makes his stomach flutter. Normally when they get to this, they're in the middle of things and Kame is turned on and hungry, and Jin doesn't feel so self-conscious. Now, with Kame so calm and clear, Jin wants to squirm, maybe, just a little bit.

Which is stupid, because it's still Kame, who gives him a slow grin and dives down with his head, and then his tongue is hot at the base of Jin's cock and coming up… up. Jin gasps.

Kame is waiting, with a small smile and darkened eyes. "I'd like to blow you, too. Is that okay?"

Jin blinks because all his blood just left his brain. "S—sure."

He's not even that keen, doesn't want it or need it like the guys he does it for. But the mental picture of Kame… like that…

Kame gives him a critical look, but if he was ever in any doubt that Jin meant it, how he must feel to Kame's hand wrapping around him should make it pretty damn obvious.

Jin exhales tightly, tries not to make an embarrassing noise, and then he has to press his lips _tight_ together when Kame takes him inside, tries a first careful slide.

It's hard not to close his eyes, and maybe he should, maybe that would be polite. But he doesn't want to.

Then Kame comes up again, cool air and what's happening here conspiring, making Jin shiver. "Help me out, okay?" Kame says. Jin can't stop staring at his lips.

He nods stupidly. Wonders what he's supposed to do.

"No, not like that." Kame strokes him a bit and that's so familiar, and this isn't, and it's all getting messy in Jin's head. "Just, let me know, if there's something I should do. Or do differently. It's been a while."

A while. Jin doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to _wonder_ and misread, but just from the way Kame is smiling quietly and being uncertain Jin _knows_ this isn't about six months ago with Tatsuya.

God.

And then he has to think about what you do and expect when you're not— when you don't do this for three different people every day; and he's touching Kame's dark hair, teasing at his fringe because he liked it a lot when Kame did that.

"Do you want—" Jin licks his lips, they're that dry. "Should I warn you? You know, when—"

Kame is shaking his head. "No." His smile looks very confident. "Don't."

"Okay," Jin says.

"Okay, so…" Still holding Jin's eyes, Kame wets his lips, too. But differently. Jin just stares.

And then Kame's head goes down and it's the heat again.

It's like all the air goes from Jin's body, a silent rush of blood pressing him tight and flat, and it's looking that does it; seeing Kame between his legs with his mouth stretched and wet, when he's _never_ done this and he wants Jin to come like this and it's _for_ Jin, and Jin has no idea, none, how long he can last.

He can't tell if it's good or skilled or anything complicated, he's just looking and feeling, and biting his lip and he feels sweaty and hot even before Kame shifts and his fingers are sliding… somewhere, back, down, and Jin makes a sharp short noise after all when they get where Kame's going to push them inside.

Kame is hesitating.

No, don't— Jin doesn't think, just does… something, spreads more and moves into the touch and manages, "yes," which could been "please," and Kame gets it, does it, and now he's held between _this_ and _that_ and there's no way he can still look, it's over, there's nothing but the heat and the stretch and the soft noises Kame makes, and then it's all white, and surging, and splinters.

His mind is blank. Only slowing touches coming through, helpless twitches that break his body into pieces, and Kame easing him down. One breath at a time.

He opens his eyes, and he's not even falling. He's just here.

Kame is stroking his hip like he's not sure yet what to do with his hand. He's smiling rather happily.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi." Jin feels groggy and like he never wants to move again, only he reaches for Kame anyway. The way Kame leans into his hand is good motivation. "Are you coming up here?"

"That was the plan," Kame says and pushes into action. "Was just enjoying the view." He leaves kisses again on his way up. Jin thinks he's a bit self-conscious.

"That felt really great," he says when Kame is close enough that he can whisper. It feels so weird, to say this and mean it, that he almost thinks he maybe shouldn't have.

But Kame just says, "I'm glad," pressing his lips soft and warm to the side of Jin's mouth, like he's uncertain… Jin turns his head, his hands in Kame's hair before he's even thinking; opens up for Kame's tongue. He wants it, too.

When they break off again, he can feel Kame smile. "Were you okay?" Jin asks quietly, his mouth still tingling a little. "It was a bit… fast."

"It was great," Kame says, his face buried in Jin's neck. "I had fun too." Warm whispers, just under his ear, and Jin slides his hands up Kame's back. "I liked it. I like the way you taste."

Jin keeps on stroking, and Kame lets his head sink on Jin's shoulder; one small part of him steadied while the rest is still finding itself together. It's unfamiliar, not like when he curls up against Kame and Kame does all the holding. Maybe he should do more with it, feel more in charge.

But it's okay; he can just hold on and try to keep Kame warm. It's fine.

And it's not long, anyway, before Kame props himself up again, looking almost intimidatingly lively.

"Would you like something?" he asks. "Another drink? Or water? Or… shower?"

For the first time, it occurs to Jin to wonder what's going to happen next. Normally Kame finishes last, and then they go to sleep. Now… Kame might just be ready for action again. He's certainly looking awake enough. And… if he makes his thoughts go there he knows that before, twice a night was no problem for Kame at all.

But that's over, and Jin can just ask.

"What would _you_ like," he says, looking up at Kame who is circling his bellybutton with his finger. "I mean, normally…"

Kame doesn't look like he's getting it. And maybe that makes sense, they usually do it differently and this is all out of order.

So what the hell. "You can still fuck me," Jin says, in the easiest voice he has for that, "if you like. Or I can shower first and _then_ …"

The circling stops; he's got Kame's full attention. "You want to?"

Okay, that's… maybe Jin should have thought before he opened his mouth. Or maybe waited. Or something. "I didn't—" he starts but that sounds bad. "If I…" Another wrong start.

"Not really, huh?" Kame says, but he's looking unsurprised and not at all annoyed.

"No, that's not what I mean," Jin says. _Now_ he's thinking, and he finds the smarts to make his hands move again, hold on to Kame so Kame can't retreat. And he tries to look sure, because he _is_ sure, only he's never said this to clients, even ones without a guilt reflex. It feels risky. "I just mean, for me… it's great to have fun once. Twice is… not so much fun. But it can be great for me, even when I don't… you know. When there's no pressure." God. This sort of thing isn't easier when your brain's numb from your last orgasm. "I like it when… I mean, you like doing me. And I like it too." He's sure he's bright red but at least Kame doesn't seem confused, and for once not full of self-reproach; just thoughtful.

His hands are moving vaguely on Jin's chest; he catches himself just before the collarbone. "I get that," he says. "With… twice. And not fun. It… yeah."

Because Jin just reminded him; what his job is, what they're really doing here. He wishes he hadn't.

He wriggles a bit; not to be sexy, just to get them moving together, to wake them up from all the thinking.

Kame is biting his lip, and there's a little smile there. Jin is glad; glad he didn't spoil the mood too much. "Thank you for telling me," Kame says. "I like that you're honest with me." He leans down for a kiss, and then hides his face against Jin's shoulder again. "I really like that."

Jin closes his eyes, to light warm lips on his skin. So cozy. "Okay," he says. And it is… if Kame prefers the real thing over some act, that's more than okay, that's perfect. He wriggles again. "So, I swear. Totally honest. You want to… even when I don't come it'll feel good for me."

But Kame is shaking his head. "It's really okay. And I like it when… with the both of us together. And I don't need more." He peers up at Jin with slightly raised eyebrows. "Also totally honest now."

Jin gets stuck on that stupid need thing again for a moment before Kame's expression really registers. Which is a bit challenging and kind of adorable. He pokes Kame in both sides, but very gently. "Are you telling me to shut up?"

Kame nudges him back. "More like… subtly suggesting…"

It makes them both laugh, and Jin rolls Kame over without thinking when Kame starts tickling his sides, too.

"Hey there," he says when they slow down again and he's got Kame truly pinned.

"Hi." Kame is hooking his feet over Jin's legs, maybe in retaliation. He looks giggly and relaxed and like he's really fucked enough for the night. "You make a nice blanket."

Blanket. There's an idea. Jin tries to reach for it, which leads to some funny maneuvers when Kame refuses to let him up, but in the end he's victorious. He drapes it over them both before he curls up in his spot along Kame's side, and Kame's fingers are in his hair again on their soothing little trails.

They don't have to do more. Jin gets it, what Kame means and what he's looking for, it all fits together. The care to keep things balanced, the concern that both of them should enjoy equally, or do nothing. He'd be a great lover with someone real.

"Do you still want to take a shower?" Kame asks into the quiet. "Or a drink?"

He doesn't need a shower, not with what they've done… He lets his fingertips traipse over Kame's chest, and thinks. "You know what," he says then, in the spirit of honesty. "You could feed me some more of that pasta. I'm kind of hungry."


	34. Chapter 34

### Machida, Wednesday 31 December – Saturday 3 January

Kame wakes up to a crick in his neck and a moment of disorientation. But he knows the shapes of the shadows, the old scent of trusty wooden furniture, the grey square on the wall from the window with its flimsy curtains. He must have slept deeply, despite the different surroundings.

Midori is a slumbering pile next to him, her hair sticking out of her sushi roll of bedding. Kame feels like an eel trying to untwist the pyjama pants from around his legs, then lies back and listens.

Quiet, but the day has started. He hasn't lived here in more than seven years, but when he lies here in the grey stillness of his room, he can feel exactly who's awake and who isn't, and how far breakfast is along.

The one good thing about the pyjamas is he doesn't have to dig around for clothes and maybe wake up his wife. The room is almost as he left it, when he first could afford his own place; only the manga he left behind have been joined by novels and travel guides, and there's an exercise machine folded away in the corner and a box with his mom's craft stuff. On top is a half-finished watercolour landscape from when his mother took painting classes with Mizuno-san from next door. The trees aren't bad and recognisable as trees, but the people walking what could be an abstract tiger might have been dropped in from a new genre of modern art, or scribbled in by Mizuno-san's grandkids when nobody was looking. Some things run in the family.

He's still smiling when he finds his mother in the kitchen, bubbling sardines in a salty sauce, a strange mix of dinner and coffee in the air.

Ran-chan is lying on the tiles in the corner, passing the time to morning rituals by gnawing on an old shoe. Her tail bangs against a kitchen cupboard when she sees Kame. After being shushed by Kame's mother, she makes a soft whining noise.

"Good morning," Kame says, trying to remember where his mother last put the mugs. "Good morning, Ran-chan."

His mother is beaming at him as if he just brought home a stellar report card. Not that he ever did. "You're not as early as you used to be," she says and gets out one of the NYK collector's mugs they all like for morning coffee. "Did you sleep well, dear?"

"Very well." He knows better than to interfere once she's in the swing of feeding him and lets her put in his sugar and milk, too. "Thanks."

She looks busy and happy at the same time, and of course she smoothes down his bed hair, saying she likes the new colour. Then she's kind enough to give him five minutes with his coffee before she engages him in conversation. He doesn't miss the look that checks whether he is dressed warm enough and has socks on.

"Midori still asleep? I hope I didn't wake you up with any noise."

"No, didn't hear a thing." He yawns and stretches his neck. "And I should wake Midori, she said she didn't want to miss all of the preparation."

"Oh, nonsense," his mother says over her shoulder. "It's healthy to get a good night's sleep, and she deserves a break from work, too."

Kame hooks his feet around the legs of the chair, like he used to when he was smaller and fit better. Despite the space and privacy of a hotel, he likes this; the early mornings, his mom, his brain just slow enough that he can enjoy being looked after and not worry about anything else. "We just don't get to see you much," he says honestly. "She doesn't want to sleep through half a day."

"She would, wouldn't she." His mother's voice is very fond. "She's like your father."

Kame drinks his coffee and says nothing, smiles when she turns to check on him.

He got all the angles from his dad. His mother's face is round and funny, and she still likes whacking and tickling him when he comes to visit. When he was little, she liked being a clumsy monk to Kame's heroic samurai when they played.

He has another cup of coffee and turns down a pre-breakfast snack twice before he hears the bathroom door upstairs. That'll be his dad. He waits for the sound of the shower to die down, then gets up. "I'll go wake up Midori," he announces. She won't want to miss them all eating together.

As if she's understood him, Ran-chan jumps into action, her shiny fur rippling. Mom calls her over and puts a restraining hand on her collar, but when she looks at Kame, it's with a stealthy glint. "She _has_ been good all morning."

Kame smiles uncertainly. "Sure, I can take her."

His mother bends down with an excited tone in her animals-and-small-children voice. "Yeees, Ran-chan," she says, ruffling the dog's fur with both hands. "Go wake our girl."

*~*~*

It's a peaceful morning, Midori lazy and best friends with the dog, his parents just happy to have them around. The bits of cleaning left to do are a way of passing the time more than a necessity. Whenever Kame looks up somebody seems to be smiling at him.

Midori and his mother skewer the last of the prawns, and Kame is assigned to the dining table when he doesn't want to be useless; he and his dad get to take all the good glasses and crystal out of the glass cabinet for once-a-year dusting.

They're both slow, household beginners. But it's not a bad way to pass the time, with the sweet and sour smells coming from the kitchen and the sun shining through the sparkling clean windows, Midori and his mother talking in familiar voices. His dad is humming along to the old Okinawa pop his mother has put on.

Funny how Kame always pictures his dad in a suit when he thinks of him, despite all these years when they mostly see each other at New Year's, and section chief Kamenashi dresses down in cardigans and comfortable pants.

New Year's feels like it's never changed. He could just as well still be living upstairs, or visiting from the two-room apartment he had when he was making solid money but before his last contract renegotiation. Nothing's really different. His dad's a little greyer; Kame's bringing his wife now. The last time he had nothing to hide from his parents was when he was still in junior high.

One year, Souji stayed at the apartment and didn't even go to see his folks. Kame spent half the night lying awake, and he got some horrible fitting fortune at the shrine that depressed him all through the holidays. He's forgotten what it said, though.

He compares the sparkliness of his crystal tumbler with the wine glasses his father has polished, and they declare they are pleased with each other. His dad smiles at him over the rim of his spectacles; the most generic frame you can find these days, but Kame can't imagine any other kind on his father.

For a moment, he wonders if he'll ever know if he goes grey, or if he'll just be dying his hair some shade of popular till the day he dies.

"I don't know if you want to be chopping that up, dear, it might be bad luck," he hears his mother say, to silence and then a sudden burst of giggling.

At a curious glance from his father, Kame bends backward to peer into the kitchen, where Midori is standing with a peeler and holding a slightly deformed and knobby-looking carrot.

Oh.

He flushes thoroughly, enough that his father seems to get the gist. He shakes his head, without much apparent surprise.

Midori's answer is hushed, not that Kame even wants to know, and then there's his mother's voice again, "I don't know, I think it's a pretty decent size," and Kame focuses all his attention on imaginary dust specks on champagne flutes, furiously pretending he did not just listen in on his mother discussing phallic carrots with his wife.

*~*~*

Towards the evening, Midori calls her parents and Kame's parents call his uncle in Sendai, where his remaining grandmother is spending the holidays. Kame alternates between reading his script and playing tug-of-war with Ran-chan for her old shoe. It's nice.

The shrine they go to is local and small. A new tradition, his mother says, like she doesn't mind they can no longer go to more popular places without Kame causing a stir. This is relaxed and undramatic, with most locals knowing his parents and being over the fact that they have a famous son. One old lady comments how he's grown up nicely, and asks whether he's working in the same company as his father.

The lights are pretty, a slow wind adding mystery and a sense of spirits. The way his parents get drawn into conversations, it feels like an extended family party. Kame's father buys hot sake for Midori and his mother, and Kame indulges in sips from Midori's mug.

Jin's not doing anything, so much seemed clear. Kame wonders what you do with your time when you don't go home; how you can get away from happy families and insistent tradition at all.

The paper lanterns on one side are bright and colourful and decorated, the sign says, by a local pre-school. Midori is intrigued by the one with giant scary bees, and Kame stops wondering about Jin, about things that don't belong. He says he prefers the dragon that looks like a caterpillar.

"Did you help with those?" his father asks, pulling Kame's mother closer to him; Kame doesn't catch what his mother says in return but from his father's laughter he guesses it was pretty rude.

*~*~*

On Friday afternoon, Mizuno-san rings their doorbell, officially to borrow some red bean paste from Kame's mother, in truth because she wants half an hour away from her mother-in-law. The ladies take tea and gossip through to the living room, the red bean paste waiting in its alibi bag.

Outnumbered, Kame and his dad take the dog out into the garden. Ran-chan dives head-first into the hedges, tail wagging excitedly as if she's discovering them for the first time.

It's windy, and they're both wearing scarves Kame's mother knit last year. His father volunteered to take the pink one.

He's taller than Kame even though Kame is the film star. Kame got his height from his mother, along with the drawing skills.

His father gazes out across the lawn and sighs. "Nice to get a bit of a break, isn't it?"

It's a pretty big garden for the area; old family property of a size they couldn't have afforded even on his dad's good salary. There is a seating group where the sandbox used to be, with the chairs folded up against the winter weather, and an old plum tree propped up by two thick support beams so it won't crash into the Mizunos' fence one stormy day.

"Yes," Kame says, "it's nice." He's going on location shoot on Monday after the New Year weekend. He'd normally be excited, except he feels on hold and distracted by the tranquillity.

He catches the relief in his father's nod, like that comment wasn't just small talk. Maybe he's not picking up the cues right. "Are you… is it bad at work? With the economy and all?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. Nothing to worry about." His father bends down for the tool box at the foot of their closed parasol and fishes out a discoloured old tennis ball. "People are still buying bottles and bottles still need caps."

"I suppose they do," Kame smiles. "So, just the usual stress?"

His father chucks the tennis ball within Ran-chan's line of sight, and she lets out a muffled yelp as she pounces. The garden is just long enough to keep her entertained if you don't throw too hard. "The usual. I'm just glad to be away from it for a few days. And the office girls keep getting younger somehow. And sillier. I don't know if there's a connection."

"Is this another one like the one with the plant?"

"No, this one is worse than the plant." Kame can tell his father is trying not to roll his eyes too much. "Somehow the girl who works at my front desk wants to go out with a young man from accounting. But there is also something going on with the girl who works for my deputy. I don't know what, nor do I want to. But it makes communication in the department very interesting."

"Sounds like fun," Kame tries.

His dad sighs again, very deeply, and then seems to decide that's enough about romantic drama. "I will have to invite them over next month, I suppose," he says instead, and casts a look back at the kitchen window, where currently nobody is to be seen. "We are very lucky we found such reasonable ones."

Kame laughs, surprising himself. "I hope that's not what you tell mom on your anniversaries. That she's so wonderfully reasonable."

"She mostly takes it as a compliment," his father objects, but he's smiling too. He takes the tennis ball from a very excited Ran-chan and lobs it a little further, just steering clear of the roses that wouldn't stand a chance. "Midori's a gem," he says then.

Kame flushes, very fast and very suddenly, and it's very different from the carrots. He knows. He knows all the ways Midori is a wonderful woman. But he can't say that; he doesn't trust his voice.

"You weren't too happy when I got married," is what he says, even though he doesn't like to remember it. He squints up against the low sun. It's chilly, for humans not chasing tennis balls.

"I just thought you were a little young, that's all."

Kame's never felt too young for anything. He was fourteen when he knew exactly what he wanted, nineteen when he got what made him happy, and knew he wanted to keep it, forever…

"I was twenty-two." Maybe his father has a point.

Ran-chan is back for another round, and this time she's making the big eyes of pleading at Kame. Kame's home, and he's not allowed to just not play.

The ball is soggy by now, dripping with happy dog drool. Kame would find it funny and disgusting if they weren't talking about his wife and his marriage and that horrible time when he wasn't even sure his _parents_ would believe he was serious about getting married, never mind Midori.

"I wasn't the same man at twenty-two as I was at thirty-two, when I met your mother, and I was much happier for it," his father says. He shrugs softly. "But you were always mature for your age. We were always proud of that."

Kame pitches a clever curveball behind the plum tree. Ran-chan looks back and forth between him and the tree as if he's played some mean trick on her. Then she trots off to investigate these strange proceedings.

"Yeah," he says, swallowing away the lump in his throat. "I never thought I was too young."

"You should marry who you love," his dad says. "And not listen so much to old people. We always think we know everything, but we're just making it all up too."

Kame nods, on autopilot. Not listening. It takes him a moment to see he can be light-hearted about this. "I'll quote you to mom on that."

Ran-chan can't help an actual bark when she finally discovers her prey, and they both watch her for a bit.

"She doesn't know, though, does she?" his father asks suddenly. "That I was a little doubtful? I'd hate for her to think I don't like her."

Kame shakes his head. Midori knows she's very much loved by his parents, and they never talked about his father's concerns. He kept that from her so it wouldn't hurt her; he's good at that.

*~*~*

"Are you sure you don't want to arrange for a car?" Kame asks after he's packed his bag and put half of Midori's stuff in the trunk to drop it off at the house.

Midori is lounging on the sofa reading a travel magazine, her feet in bright red socks, one hand dangling off the side to stroke Ran-chan's head. "Very sure," she says. "I take the trains every day."

His mother is reading a different issue of the same magazine, with thin sticky notes poking out in neon yellows and greens where she's been fantasy-travelling. "Dad can give you a lift, too, honey. It's no trouble."

"That would be nice, but it's really not necessary. Kazuya's taking the luggage home, so it's no hassle at all."

Kame goes into the kitchen to get some water for the drive. He isn't needed for this. He knows how it's going to end anyway. His mother is very happy Midori has decided to stay until Sunday; it's even kept her from regretful hints about Kame's early departure. Not that they ever give him much grief.

He doesn't like going from family time straight to filming. They know that. Midori expected him to stay at the apartment anyway, to get into the right frame of mind for sinking into a character.

"You should kidnap him sometime," he hears when he comes back out. His mother gives him a sideways smile, clearly up to no good. "Hawaii, Thailand…"

"I quite fancy Europe," Midori says. Then she cranes her neck for Kame. "Don't worry, we're just daydreaming. No stress." No guilt, she means. It's this sort of thing that makes her so easy to be around.

He nods and tries not look awkward in his parents' living room. "I'm kind of… ready to go," he says.

"Almost," his mom says, getting up. Midori climbs off the sofa and appoints herself dog-handler for the goodbye proceedings by calling Ran-chan to her side.

His dad carries his bag to the car as if he's twelve. His mother has made him bento so he doesn't starve on the one hour drive, and it twists his heart.

"Stop fretting," Midori says when she kisses him on the cheek. "You need to think about samurai and angsty princesses."

"Deranged villains with horrible childhoods," he says, and they both laugh.

The dog is undecided who she wants to jump on more, though she settles on Kame when she understands he's about to get into a car. His mother has some final words on dressing for cold climates, but they've always treated him like an adult, so it's not too bad.

Then he's alone with the door closed, and after one corner he can't see them wave anymore. He knows it was an easy stay, and the sense of his life rolling back into motion is about work.

It's just an hour out of central Tokyo, and he can see them any time. That's why it never hurts to leave.

 

### Chidori, Wednesday 31 December – Thursday 01 January

The streets are pretty quiet, for seven o'clock on a Wednesday night. But Jin guesses most people are already inside with their families, or left Tokyo earlier in the day to travel home to wherever they came from.

He sent a card, to let them know he's alive, wish them luck. They'll get it tomorrow.

He shifts the bag with the two sake bottles into the hand that's already holding the bag with the three six packs of beer, and tucks his hair out of his face again. The wind is only light, but it's coming from just the wrong side. He wishes he'd put on his knit hat, but it's mild for the time of year and he didn't want to get sweaty before the night even started.

It took him half an hour to even decide what to wear. Baggy jeans seemed inappropriate for New Year, and no way was he going to wear a suit and feel like an escort on assignment all night. He's wearing one of his Kame outfits now and telling himself it's normal to wear it even though Kame hasn't seen it yet, it's just clothes.

He expected to spend his New Year sleeping, writing music, and mostly trying not to think about last New Year when he and Subaru were desperately trying to find tricks to pay for heating. Or the one before that with Naoki, giggling drunkenly through some camp idol music show, making love after the bells. But it's hard to stop the memories coming when you've got an entire family holiday all to yourself.

So when Tomo mailed him on Monday and asked if he wanted to help entertain an excitable teenager through a sleep-deprived night, Jin accepted at once. Tomo promised 'soba, mochi, food and booze' for keeping their strength up, but Jin managed to insist on supplying the booze at least. Now he's glad Tomo doesn't live far away, because the bags are getting kind of heavy.

He hasn't been to Tomo's before, but the directions were clear. It's an eight-storey building, not as well-kept as Jin's and somehow greyer. Some of the name signs look grubby under scratched plastic, but the Yamashita is neat in nice hand-writing.

Once inside and past the parking lot of prams, he remembers Tomo's warning that the elevator isn't working, and is just taking a deep breath in preparation for hiking the bags up to the fifth floor when footsteps start clattering down the stairs. By the time he's halfway to the first landing, a boy a head shorter than he rounds the corner and stops to bow tidily. "Welcome, I'm Yoshiaki, and Nii-san told me to help you carry."

"Hi," Jin says, "I'm Jin."

The boy bows again and then he holds out a hand for a bag. "Hi, Jin-san. Can I take something?"

Jin gives him the beer, because cans aren't breakable. The boy is short for his age, and not exactly bulky. He wears thin-framed glasses and a slightly too big black shirt, neatly buttoned and ironed.

He's fast, taking the stairs two at a time, and not at all out of breath when they both make it to the top. Tomo is standing in the door, wearing a Minnie-Mouse apron and with his fringe tied up in a little fountain on top of his head. He laughs when he sees Jin trudging up the last steps after Yoshiaki.

"Don't worry, we're not old, Yoshi's just very young," he says, stepping back. "Watch the junk in the hall, we tidied up the rest but there was nowhere else to put this stuff."

Jin kicks off his shoes and is appropriately careful around the junk, which is books and videos, a battered GMX bike and, Jin thinks, a half-deflated basketball hidden under clothes, and then follows them inside. There's a delicious smell of heat and spices.

*~*~*

"Did Emi-san teach you how to make this?" Jin asks while they're busy stuffing themselves with hotpot and soba. They're sitting on cushions around a kotatsu in the middle of a very small, very full room.

"Actually," Tomo says, "our mother did. She wasn't able to cook before… for a while, and she told me how to make all the dishes we liked."

Jin's learned that Tomo's mother had MS and died from it; Tomo told him one night before their songs when Jin didn't want to talk about his own parents and maybe asked too many questions. Somebody else might have thought it was rude but Tomo didn't mind.

"Nii-san is a great cook!" Yoshi declares, and Tomo laughs.

"He says that because I don't make him eat natto and konyaku."

Jin shakes his head. "He says it because this is excellent."

Normally he prefers spaghetti to soba, but tradition is tradition, and these are done just right and the sauce is delicious. The hotpot keeps everyone warm, not that Tomo and his brother seem to be needing it; they have the sleeves of their shirts rolled up as though they're more than used to the chill in the room.

"I don't cook _that_ much," Tomo admits with half a shrug, poking around in his noodles. "You know, during the week. Lots of conbini for us. So I like it, on a holiday…"

"It's _great_ ," Yoshi nods, confirming with a loud slurp.

They catch up on their recent news while handing around bowls and hunting for meat and mushrooms in the hotpot. Tomo tells them about the latest oddities from his jobs, Jin about his helplessness in clothes shopping, and Yoshi about a biology project with mouldy jello he's really into.

"I can't help him much," Tomo says, leaning back against the front of their worn couch with its faded flower pattern. It reminds Jin of his parents' living room. "I was kind of distracted in my last couple of years at school and then I dropped out early."

Jin can guess why. "I finished," he says, "but, well, barely. Wasn't really paying attention. I was a bit of an idiot."

Tomo nods without even pretending that he wants to protest. And why should he.

"We're lucky that Yoshi doesn't really need my help." Tomo smiles at his brother. "He's doing just fine."

"I really like chemistry. I'm going to be a chemist and make medicines and earn lots of money," Yoshi says earnestly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"That sounds excellent," Jin agrees.

"What is your job?" Yoshi asks.

"I'm a waiter at a private club," Jin says. "It's not much fun. Customers can be rude to you and you can't talk back. You're better off becoming a chemist." ****

"I'll work hard," Yoshi says, quickly distracted as Tomo refills the beer glasses for Jin and himself. "Can I have one too? Just one?"

Tomo hesitates, and Jin makes a 'fine by me' face at him.

"Promise you won't try a skywing shoot in here again afterwards, Yoshi?"

"Promise," Yoshi says immediately, draining his cola and getting up to rinse his glass.

"Skywing shoot?" Jin says when he's sat down again. "You like Captain Tsubasa?"

"Totally." It's a statement of faith. "The early ones anyway, not so much now with the wife and stuff. But when he's still in school, yeah. You like him too?"

"Yeah." He once did, anyway. "I read everything up to Road to 2002. I've watched most of the anime, too, have you?"

"Yeah, we watched them in the video club at school. But I like the manga better."

"Do you also play soccer?"

"Eh." Yoshi shrugs squirmily. "I try. I like it, but I'm not good."

"You're not as bad as you make out," Tomo says. "You just don't have much time to play."

"Yeah, maybe." Yoshi takes a little sip of his beer, and Jin can tell he's trying to look manly and like he enjoys the bitter taste.

"Do you play with your friends?" Jin asks.

"Nah, not so much. They're all better than me, it's kind of…" He shrugs and sips at his beer again. Jin gets it.

"I also like pirate manga," he says. "Do you know One Piece?"

*~*~*

Jin gets permission from Tomo to carry some bowls through into the kitchen, but that's as much work as he's allowed to contribute; when Tomo starts running hot water he directs Jin to a corner by the door. Yoshi brings through the last of the dishes and disappears to watch some girl band sing on TV.

"I can get out of your way," Jin says, uncertain whether Tomo would prefer that. It feels weird to stand and watch somebody else work. The kitchen is tiny, cheap plastic surfaces and some grubbiness in the corners if you look for it, but mostly clean. It reminds him of the one he shared with Naoki.

Tomo stops rooting around for something or other under the sink and grins up at him. "You're not in my way, that's why I put you there." He comes up with a bag of cheap sponges, the kind Jin uses himself. "Sorry it's so tight in here."

"It's not much smaller than mine," Jin says. Only older, and more personal. The lampshade is ancient and ugly. There are faded stickers of cool cars on the fridge.

"It helps when the furniture fits." Tomo grins again. "But hey, this is cheap. And enough for us." He flicks his eyes upward, with a sympathetic pout. "Takeshi-san upstairs cooks for three kids in one of these, and her hot water's not really working."

He's stacking bowls efficiently to drip, and Jin doesn't ask if he's allowed to dry because he knows what the answer will be.

"Do apartments around here become available often?" he asks instead. "I've kind of been thinking about moving."

Tomo stops scratching at dried sauce in a pan and gives him a thoughtful frown. "Here? I mean, it would be cool, but… well, you see what this is like. And the same company owns most apartment blocks around here, so they're all pretty much the same. Nothing ever gets fixed. Your place is so much nicer."

"Yeah," Jin says, "maybe." Expensive apartments for expensive escorts. "But it's really too much money, and I want to save up."

"You got plans?"

Jin puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs slowly. "I want to ditch my job. You know, learn something decent. I wouldn't be able to keep my place anyway when I do that."

"Yeah," Tomo nods. "Okay, makes sense. I can totally look out for something cheap for you around here, if you don't mind the nasty."

Jin doesn't say how much better this is than the place he shared with Subaru. Or any street corner he could care to name. He looks out through the small, slightly dusty window, past the freshly washed curtain that has ducks on it. "This isn't nasty," he simply says. "It's kind of homey. I come from a place like this, too."

*~*~*

The clouds in the sky are lit orange from below, chased by a fresh breeze across the darkness behind. There's no moon.

"Cold," Jin says, hunching up his shoulders as they march through the street. "Brrr. Cold."

"Wimp," Tomo says tolerantly.

Yoshi trots along beside them, wrapped up in woolly hat and a long scarf, his glasses peeking out between.

They played Jenga after food, chatting randomly, with Kouhaku barely audible on the TV in the back, until it was time to leave. They briefly considered heading up to Asakusa to see in the New Year with the crowds at Sensouji, but then Tomo remembered that the trains would stop running, and wouldn't entertain the quiet suggestion that Jin could pay for the cab back. So now they're on their way to the local shrine ten minutes away, which will be good enough.

Most of the neighbourhood seems to think so too. The closer they get, the busier the streets are, and once they pass through the torii they have to slow almost to a halt.

Lots of people know Tomo. It makes sense, Jin thinks, with the jobs and Yoshi's school and everything; he'd just never thought about it. He doesn't know anybody. But Yoshi doesn't seem very interested in the adults but isn't talking to the other kids either, so eventually Jin gives Tomo a little wave and takes Yoshi down to a stall where he can try to shoot wooden blocks and, if he's lucky, win a Wii.

He's not lucky, which is kind of a shame. In the end he gets to pick a talisman from a box of plushie keyrings.

"Here," he says, turning to Jin. "Thanks for letting me try for the Wii." He hands him a small green-and-brown turtle. The little leaflet attached explains that it stands for longevity.

Jin stares at it.

Maybe too long.

"Not that I mean to say you're old," Yoshi is saying. "Just… older than me, and it doesn't hurt, right?"

"No," Jin says quickly, and then he can't stop smiling at him. "It doesn't hurt at all."

Right then the bell starts to ring, and they turn back to find Tomo again before the 108 are over.

They stand next to each other when the cheering starts.

After, Tomo and Yoshi hand in last year's charms to be burned, and they all go to get new ones. Next are the fortunes. Yoshi squeezes his eyes shut and shakes the box hard before tipping out the stick. After unrolling the fortune the shrine maiden hands him, he pumps his fist in the air triumphantly.

"It says you're going to give me more pocket money next year," he says to Tomo with a wide, cheeky smile.

Tomo looks up from his own fortune and makes a face. "Mine says I'm going to be nibbled to death by cockroaches, so I'm afraid you'll have to find somebody else to raise your allowance."

Jin laughs. "I guess you might want to tie that one up."

"Cockroaches or extortion," Tomo says. "Hmm…"

It's Yoshi who snatches the fortune out of his hand and knots it around a thin twig of the paper-laden tree by the shrine.

"What've you got?" Tomo asks Jin.

Jin shrugs. "I'm going to find a good wife."

"Whoops," Tomo says with a little smile.

"You don't want her, I could do with a girlfriend," Yoshi says, and that solves the question of tying the poor prospective wife to a tree to everybody's satisfaction.

Jin gets hot lemon tea for Yoshi and hot sweet sake for Tomo and himself for the walk home. He's feeling chilled through and hopes he's not going to catch a cold that'll stop him working. His free hand is in his pocket, closed around the turtle keyring.

They have a date on Sunday.

"Yoshi and I were thinking of driving to the beach to watch the first sunrise early tomorrow," Tomo says, sounding a little drowsy. "You want to come? You can crash at ours or I can pick you up tomorrow. Six should be early enough."

Six. Jin… prefers not to remember when he was last up at six in the morning. Not since he got his current job, that's for sure.

"That sounds great," he says. "You really don't mind?"

"I'll be grateful," Tomo says in an aggrieved tone. "You can help me throw sticks into the water for this one here to fetch, so he doesn't whine about being bored."

Yoshi kicks him, but gently.

*~*~*

It's pretty dark at five-thirty, Jin thinks. He knows it's a stupid thought, it was no less dark when he got home at half past one. But the dark feels different at this time. Like you're not meant to be around in it. Like you're supposed to be under a cover somewhere.

Looking out of his window, he sees lights in windows here and there, and wonders if these are people who are still partying, or people who are also getting up early for the sunrise. Whether there's going to be a long line of cars on the freeway, all heading towards the Bay or Yokohama.

He brushes his teeth, and dresses in the clothes he discarded for nicer ones yesterday afternoon; jeans, t-shirt, thick knit sweater and a double layer of socks. He's glad his boots are kind of big.

His fingers feel dull and he's kind of clumsy when he makes the coffee that's supposed to help him stop yawning so much.

He wishes he had a thermos flask to take a hot drink along for all of them. Maybe now he can start getting these things one only needs once or twice a year.

He has a quick helping of miso soup with an egg stirred through it, and when Tomo rings the bell, he's ready to wrap himself in his coat, grab his woolly accessories and the keyring, and go.

"Did you sleep?" Yoshi is bouncing up and down on the back seat.

"Sure," Jin says, "didn't you?" Because Tomo lives so close the car is still cold, and the cranky old fans are noisy, working hard for the first burst of hot air.

"Nii-san said I didn't have to. Cause I don't have school. I just watched stuff on TV. But I'm not tired at all."

"I slept," Tomo says. He's got on neither gloves nor hat but at least there's a fluffy sort of jacket that makes Jin feel like less of a wimp. "Just in case you're worried about risking your life in this car."

"Not worried," Jin says and tries to peer over his shoulder. "What did you watch?"

"Just anime …" Yoshi's voice sounds light, and Jin can't see his face in the passenger seat mirror, he's hidden behind the headrest.

"Go on, admit it already," Tomo says. "You were old enough to stay up for it, you can man up and admit to it, too."

"Attack No. 1 reruns, okay?" Yoshi says sulkily, still hidden behind the seat. "They're fun."

Jin remembers Taro-chan being obsessed with Card Captor Sakura for a while. Hisato teased him mercilessly about that, until everyone in Jin's family got freaked by boys liking girl stuff and nothing was funny any more.

"That's about volleyball," he says to Yoshi. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah," Yoshi says. "And it's pretty good for a girl thing."

"Hey," Jin says, "I believe you." He doesn't say more, though, it's better to be careful.

Tomo grins at him sideways over a gear change. "I cried over Rose of Versailles," he says under his breath, "not that I'd tell him that."

"I don't know that," Jin admits. "With three of us… could be difficult to watch what you wanted. I was outside a lot."

Tomo nods. "Yeah, I get that. It can get kind of tight." He pulls in his shoulders as if to illustrate, and they both laugh at that.

Jin wonders if they had more space before Tomo's mother got sick. He thinks Tomo sleeps in the living room. But good for them they always had a place to stay. Good for Yoshi.

It's peaceful in the car, Tomo driving, the city sleepy and hiding from a hangover. Tomo's put the music on low but in the quiet Jin can recognize it, and he ends up humming along to the song about aliens and English guys.

"I thought about doing that one once," Tomo says. "But it has too many hard words."

Jin listens for a moment. "Yeah, I don't really get all of it, either."

"But your English is really good. I mean, I can tell on all those American songs."

"It's… okay, I guess," Jin says hesitantly. "It's not that great. There's a guy at my work who's from L.A., I can try stuff out on him, that's quite useful."

"Yoshi likes English, too," Tomo says, with a quick gesture of his chin over his shoulder. Jin turns around in his seat.

But Yoshi is scrunched up against a corner of the back seat, asleep.

*~*~*

"Here, drink that," Tomo says to Yoshi and holds out the cup, steam rising from it up into the dark. "It'll keep you going until sunrise."

Yoshi props himself up from where he collapsed on a dune as soon as they found a good spot on the beach. He takes the cup and sniffs it. "It's coffee," he says accusingly.

"I put three sugars in it for you."

"Hm, okay." Yoshi gulps it down as fast as he can. "Thanks."

Tomo wipes the rim of the cup conscientiously with a cloth from the satchel he brought along. Then he refills it from the flask and holds it out to Jin. "Want some, too?"

They slope they're sitting on is reasonably comfortable, but there's a wet chill rising from the ground under them. There are maybe five hundred people on the beach with them, and most are standing because it's warmer that way. Everybody's pretty quiet, except for the bigger dogs who are running around excitedly. The smaller ones are being kept cozy in their owners' handbags, and for a weird moment Jin thinks it must be nice to be a dog like that.

He needs a hot drink.

"I'd love some," he says, but when Tomo gives him the cup, it's almost full, and he doesn't want to drink all of Tomo's coffee. "That's a bit much, though."

"Drink what you can, I'll take the rest," Tomo says.

Jin takes a large sip. The heat is wonderful.

His mom had an ancient flask for them. Plastic on the outside, and you had to carry it upright or it would spill. It usually managed lukewarm. Hisato used to whine about it until he got to be the official good son.

But he's not thinking about that. He doesn't even know if they still do the same things, TV and the balcony sunrise that was always beautiful, or if anyone's around to give Taro-chan a decent present.

And there's no point wondering.

"When do you have to start working again?" he asks. He knows most people are on vacation for another two days, but especially in crappy jobs, that can vary. Jin's back at work on the third for the Saturday crowd, and he knows that some of the guys have dates with regulars tomorrow.

"The bar opens again tomorrow night," Tomo says. "Can't really afford to lose the business. And I've got some deliveries tomorrow, too. The parking thing doesn't start up again till Monday, though, I got unlucky there with the way the Sunday follows the holidays.

Unlucky. Holidays suck when you'd rather have the money.

"You?" Tomo says, and takes the cup Jin holds out to him.

"Back on Saturday." Jin shrugs. "Service industry."

They stare out into the darkness from which the sun is meant to come. Jin thinks maybe he can see a faint dark glow.

"I don't have school until Monday," Yoshi says. "But I've still got homework to do."

"I hear you're good at English," Jin says, deciding to be cheerful because for now they're here and don't have to mope about stupid work.

Yoshi considers that very seriously. "I'm not bad. But I'm better at chemistry. And maths. And biology. And—"

"You got seventy-one in that last test," Tomo says, "that's pretty good."

"Hello, how are you?" Jin says to Yoshi in English. "Are you still tired?"

"I understood that!" Tomo grins.

"That's because it's basic," Yoshi says. He sits up more, getting livelier. "I'm tired," he says in English, "but I am also cold and I am hungry."

"I am cold, too," Jin replies, and once again Tomo interrupts, in Japanese.

"You two moanfaces are impossible. Have more coffee."

"Coffee isn't food," Yoshi says wisely to Jin in English. "It is inadequate."

"Inadequate?" Jin doesn't know that one.

"Not good. Not good _enough_ ," Yoshi says triumphantly.

Jin looks around, at the slowly greying horizon, the people with their dogs and children and the enterprising snack sellers with their carts weaving between them.

"Okay. Let's make a bet. If you know a longer English word than I, I have to buy you those sweet potatoes."

Tomo clearly didn't follow that. English can be useful, Jin thinks.

Yoshi tilts his head and gives Jin an assessing look through his glasses. "What if you win? "

"You don't complain about food."

"Huh," Yoshi says. "Okay. Say your word."

Jin counts quickly in his head. Bon Jovi with 'difference' or Metallica with 'remembrance'… "Remembrance. Eleven."

Yoshi looks at him with something like new respect. "Ooookay…" and then he spends a few minutes counting out letters on his fingers.

Jin grins at Tomo, who raises his eyebrows questioningly. "A bet."

The horizon is turning purple, and people's voices are getting louder.

"Abbreviation!" Yoshi says triumphantly. "Twelve."

"I thought of another one," Jin says, pleased with himself. "Grandchildren. Thirteen."

Yoshi screws his face up and starts counting again.

"Chemosynthesis," he pronounces carefully at last, and then in Japanese again, "Fourteen. Beat that."

Jin laughs. "I don't even know what it means."

"You don't have to know that to beat it, do you?" Yoshi says practically.

"Okay, no. But still. What does it mean?"

"I know it from chemistry, actually, not from English." Yoshi is slightly apologetic. "It's when molecules transform into stuff without using light. You know?"

Jin doesn't know, but he guesses he's learned something. "Okay, you win." He stands up, looks around for the nearest vendor, and digs in his pockets. "Sweet potatoes for all before sunrise."

He's lucky and the queue is short, and he manages to get back to Tomo and Yoshi just as they have stood up to be touched by the first rays of sun shooting across the bay.

"Happy New Year," he says, and holds out the steaming cardboard containers.

"Thank you," Tomo says. "But that wasn't ne—"

"He won, fair and square," Jin says, glad when Tomo smiles as the delicious scent hits him. "That's what happens to grown-ups who think they have to gamble."

Yoshi nods wisely.

They fall silent as they snack on their potatoes. Everyone's staring out, at the glow on the water that's rippling and eerie and just as special as it should be to announce a new start.

Jin tries not to think of much, just notes that it's pretty.

He's got no plans for the new year, no dreams. No realistic ones, anyway. Hope for continued general improvement is a lame sort of wish.

But maybe this can be the year before the year that's going to be different. He can make that happen – get out of that apartment, make better plans, save more money and hope he keeps earning lots. Next time the sun comes up like this, he'll be ready.

Today is better than he expected already.

Next to him, Yoshi is leaning into Tomo, sneaking in the kind of cuddle he thinks he's too old for, and Tomo pulls him in without taking his eyes off the bay. Jin pretends he doesn't see.


	35. Chapter 35

### Sunday 4 January

Kame examines himself with the critical eye of someone trying to find fault. He feels a little clumsy when he fiddles in the cufflinks. Then he holds up his arms and frowns at his wrists. Too much?

He stares ahead. Crisp shirt, pale silk tie, hair curling just so. Classic suit, excellent fit; someone's been eating his dinner.

Bright, relaxed smile.

"We met on a TV set a few years ago and were chatting during the breaks."

Something about the shirt is off. It's a favourite from last season and looks great with his jeans, but under the suit it's dull and boring. Not good if he looks like a waiter.

"Of course we kept in touch. We both like…" Sports, maybe? Maybe not. Food doesn't work either. "We both like whisky."

Good god.

He strips out of the waiter shirt and tries a different one, also white, but with a wider collar. Maybe the red tie will work better too.

Not booze. Not food. Why do people spend time with each other? Probably not because of free make-up tips either.

"We really hit it off back then, maybe because we were the youngest on the set. We always had coffee together, and we made it a tradition, dinner together whenever we're both in town."

He tilts his head, his face softening from winsome charm into the slightly tired truth. He thinks he looks convincing and sounds slightly manic. Nobody sane cares about these sorts of details.

And they told him years ago that explaining too much just makes people wonder.

The second shirt is okay. If he's lucky his hair is going to stay young and bouncy, but he didn't want to imprison it in too much goo.

"Oh, what a nice surprise to see you here," he says, straightening again. "May I introduce…" Oh. Right.

That might be worth a question.

Kame shakes his head and very firmly pictures his agent, his current co-star, or Asahi Shinbun's society columnist with their politely delighted faces and no interest whatsoever in discussing make-up. Better to think positive.

He's been thinking positively with so much dedication that he's running late now.

He tugs and tweaks for another thirty seconds, but the suit is so safe it can't possibly be actively wrong. His hair's okay and he's got the right shoes and matching socks and… he should really get a move on.

He grabs his coat and his wallet, and only pauses briefly to breathe at the door.

He can practice lines in his head in the cab.

*~*~*

They picked the hotel a block down from the club. There are a handful of convenient meeting places within walking distance, for the club to scatter taxi pick-ups around and not draw attention. Kame sees Jin the moment they turn into the wide driveway of terracotta bricks, and he's nervous enough that his stomach dips just from the sight.

Jin's in his coat and scarf as usual, his hair moving with the breeze. The luxury car Kame ordered for this doesn't stand out among the limos and stretch limos frequenting the hotel. "That's my friend," he says through the intercom, and when they come to a halt, Jin looks rather lost at the window through which Kame knows he can see precisely nothing.

The driver is getting out of the car; that's unavoidable, but Kame rolls his window down anyway, to catch a glimpse of Jin smiling in recognition. And then Jin is quick and smooth, and it takes no more than ten seconds before he's inside and they're both enclosed by steel and dark-tinted glass again.

"Hi," Jin says, stretching out his legs and wiggling his feet. "Nice car."

"It's useful," Kame says with a smile, while his heartbeat is slowing down. He wonders how he'll survive an evening in public when a simple meet-up makes his hands sweat. "You look really good."

Jin looks like always, and it's just as true. "Thank you," he smiles, still gazing around as if he's getting used to the concept of private space in the back of a car. Kame likes the feeling that nobody else has taken Jin out in style like that before. "How are you?"

"Good," Kame says. The car runs smoothly, quietly; you barely know you're moving. "I'm good. And you?"

"Fine," Jin says, much less hurried. "And kind of curious who I'm going to be."

"Yes, that…" At least he's got a plan. It helps his nerves. But as they drive, screened from the outside and figuring out identities, the secret agent vibe of it all is threatening to make him flush.

"I'm not sure I'd be believable as your financial consultant," Jin says. He's gone thoughtful. "But, you know, if you'd prefer to change your mind—"

"No," Kame says, glancing at the intercom switch to check it's off for sure, "it's fine, I'm just not used to it, that's all." He clears his throat. "I thought you could be a make-up artist."

"Make-up?" They covered the basics about how they would know each other through work, but Jin seems a bit taken aback.

"Well, it's kind of boring," Kame explains quickly, "and I doubt anybody would want to talk shop, or feel weird if they don't know your name…"

Jin blinks. There it is.

"Yeah," Kame says weakly. "There's that too. I don't know what you…" But he's not a professional for nothing, and he won't be imposing. So he smiles. "I personally find Takahashi a little nicer than Yamada, but it's really up to you."

Jin blinks away from him, without moving. The car is really very quiet.

Kame holds his smile; nods encouragingly when Jin meets his eyes again, not as open as before. "It's fine. Really."

"Akanishi," Jin says. "It's Akanishi."

Kame stares for a moment, the writing forming in his head. Unexpected. He'd never have asked that.

Akanishi Jin. It has a lovely sound. But he doesn't say that.

"Thank you," he says, and then for a moment nothing else springs to mind. But he can still see uncertainty lingering under Jin's nod, and he really shouldn't make a fuss. "That's great," he adds quickly, and then, "so, you don't have to be a make-up artist if you don't want to. I just figured it might be safe, people don't tend to know much about that."

"Yeah," Jin says with a small smile. "People like me. I don't even know half the names of things." Suddenly he stops, like… his thoughts took a turn.

"We can pick something else," Kame says at once. "Only I couldn't come up with anything."

"No," Jin says slowly, "that's not it. It's fine. I'm a make-up artist. It's a good plan." He falls silent again and stares at the dark window separating them from the driver. Kame wonders if he knows that he's chewing on his bottom lip, and how endearing that looks.

He spares the gleaming front panel of the minibar fridge a glance. He means to take it slow tonight, but maybe Jin would like some Champagne. Maybe if Kame offers, he'll emerge from whatever is troubling him, have fun again like he's meant to.

"Tatsuya looks really good in make-up," Jin says then, lightly and without looking at him. "Do you like that? Would you like it if I did that?"

What?

"No," Kame says. "How did you get from— this isn't about that. I like you without make-up, I don't need that stuff."

Jin gives him a cryptic little smile. "Need, huh?"

"I don't want it," Kame says, sitting up straight and eyeing Jin seriously. "I like you without make-up. Can we get back to what we were doing?"

Jin laughs, a little desperate maybe but it's genuine. "Okay. I'm an incompetent make-up artist who messed you up so horribly one time that now, whenever we meet, I have to take you out for dinner at the restaurant of your choice to atone for my sins."

Kame still feels too rattled to laugh, but he manages a smile. "That would make a good film," he says. "But my version's more boring and forgettable." There's only the vaguest shadow visible from the front of the car, and the tinted windows are on their side, are for them. He moves his hand to touch Jin's fingers lightly where they lie on the seat. "Here's how it goes."

*~*~*

For a moment Kame feels like at the club when they hand over their coats to an attendant and are invited into the full grandeur of the restaurant. Only here he is arriving with Jin. Jin is a colleague. No one must know.

Nobody will. The place is so exclusive, he would have taken Souji here. He wanted to. When Souji felt cooped up at home or complained they never went anywhere together. The price scale keeps away random fans or journalists and the culture keeps the gossip inside, and anyway – nobody would find the news worth selling that he came here for dinner with a friend, a roommate, or an acquaintance who happens to be a make-up artist.

"Hey," Jin says when the host has left them at their table with the thin, delicately bound menus. Kame chides himself for being an idiot, and he scans Jin's face and then the table to see if he missed anything while brooding.

"I'm sorry, is something wrong?"

"No," Jin says, an amused question in that one word. "You look really good in that suit."

The pleased tingle sneaks in under the radar, past the memories, and Kame smiles, flustered. Jin didn't have to say that. "Thank you. So do you."

It's true. He takes in the soft charcoal jacket with the white shirt underneath; a regular kind of shirt, Jin's played it even safer then Kame, and yet he's stunning. The pale yellow tie Jin picked works remarkably well and seems less predictable than Kame's classic red one. "We're both being very respectable tonight."

"I was glad when you said I wouldn't need a tuxedo, I'd have had to rent one." Jin purses his lips at the menu. "So, where's the spaghetti?" When he looks at Kame, there's an evil glint in his smile.

Teasing is good. Helps with the uncertainty in his stomach whenever he looks around in the airy room with its low-key murmur; not crowded, but there are people. Eating, talking. Minding their own business. He should take a page out of Jin's book and relax. "I could ask the chef to make you some. That would be memorable."

"Probably more memorable than we want to be," Jin says with a wide grin. "Well, I guess I can settle for Kobe beef and lobsters for a night."

They order starters, and veal and potatoes for the main course; Jin practices the pronunciation on Kame before the waiter arrives, and he accepts a small glass of Champagne while they wait for their food.

Kame sips at his own and finds it tasting like Champagne usually does. He's not keen on the bubbles but it seemed fitting somehow. He smiles over the rim.

"This was a really cool idea," Jin says. "I was surprised but… this is cool."

"Well, you know I'm going away on location…"

Jin nods.

"I wanted to do something nice before that and… I really like this restaurant."

"It looks very impressive," Jin agrees, with a subtle glance around. At the tall gothic windows, the Impressionist artwork, the light pastels and heavy bright chandeliers. "I'd ask if you come here often, but I probably don't have to do that."

It takes Kame a moment to catch on. When he does, he laughs; loud enough that someone must have heard it, but the moment that follows is just fine. He takes a deep breath. "I don't often have reason to," he says. "But it's nice, it's discreet, I would have…" He stops, surprised how carelessly he'd bring it up. Not good.

Jin is eyeing him curiously. "What?"

He'll make it a bigger deal if he fudges, make Jin think he's not allowed to ask. Still Kame's throat is dry, and the tingle from the Champagne just makes his face hot. "I would have brought my boyfriend here. Back then."

Jin stares, like Kame knew he would, with warm eyes that confuse him. He's not sure what that pause is, only now there seems to be a weight between them and Kame didn't want that.

"Why didn't you?" Jin asks calmly.

Kame has to condense it, to be brief and undramatic. What he comes up with is so simple he shouldn't have taken this long. "He didn't want to." He wishes he could get the levity back; it's stupid to be here for a lovely evening and then bring back the past. Souji's not even the worst of it.

It's been a while since he's looked at Jin and wondered how come he's even still talking to Kame. Now he needs a moment, looks around for a waiter before he can face Jin again.

"To such a nice place?" Jin asks, his voice slipping high but his smile is awkward and honest. "Where they make you spaghetti."

Kame feels his mouth twist weirdly. At least they're both sheepish. And there was a question. "He… he didn't like going to places he couldn't afford. The places he could afford were too public for me." It still sounds wrong. Wrong and self-indulgent. "Sorry."

"You _can_ mention him," Jin says. "I mean, I don't want to stick my nose in your business. But it's okay if you mention him."

"I don't want to sound like I'm making excuses."

Jin blinks. Slowly. Several times. Kame feels that nervous plunge again but he keeps on top of it.

"You… really don't," Jin says in the end, a little cautiously. "Sound like it." He's biting his lip.

"What?"

"I know it's not funny but… I can see how it's annoying that he wouldn't come to your restaurant, but unless it made you really really _really_ mad…"

Jin stops, holding his breath, and Kame laughs first just so Jin knows it's okay, he can, he's got a point. Anybody who's not in Kame's head couldn't know, how this one thing was just part of it all, of the endless debates about secrecy and politics and principles, of the ways they rubbed each other raw and the weapon Souji used in the end. It's all one in Kame's head, but it's only him trapped in there now, and yeah…

"I guess that sounded a bit extreme," he admits.

"I guess it made sense to you?" Jin returns, and now he's not laughing any more. "If you want to fill me in… I mean, I don't know much. Only if you want. But I don't mind."

Kame doesn't want to, not really, but it's important somehow that Jin doesn't think he's just crazy. That Jin gets where that came from, where other stuff might come from when Kame isn't as sane as he should be, even in little ways like this. So it's good Jin doesn't mind, and Kame just needs to find a start.

He takes a deep gulp of his Champagne, emptying the glass. He'll be careful from now.

"We fought a lot," he says. And then he looks at Jin, at the way Jin's facing him across the table with its thick napkins and delicate flowers, and waiting. "A lot," he stresses. "Not to start with, but later. Souji was very… he got really involved in being out and political at his university, and the more successful I got, the more I was worried. About rumours and things. So we fought."

He has to shut up when the waiter approaches; their starters, great, just in time for a nice demonstration. But Jin seems relaxed, smiles a shy smile as their mushroom tarte tatins are put in font of them with hardly a mumbled word.

They could eat now. Just get away from this if Jin thinks he's getting pathetic.

Jin reaches for a fresh slice of bread. "Did you live together?" he asks.

"No. But we were mostly at my place. He still had his own room at the university. But he was at mine even when I wasn't there, when I was working. I think I ran away to work at the end."

Those times he'd not even wanted to come home at night, went drinking with co-stars or was hiding at Midori's. But even now he doesn't think it would have made a difference if he'd gone home early.

"We fought about other things too," he says. Jin is breaking the bread into small pieces and Kame can tell he's not really eating for appetite but to let Kame know he's relaxed, he's cool. Reassurance nibbles. "But half the time it was something like this. Restaurants, parties, holidays, friends… I wanted to play it safe, he hated the inconvenience, the expense, being dishonest. By the time I ended it, he knew exactly what I was most afraid of."

It's strange how calm he sounds. So reasonable. He's still got it on loop, his agent's voice, the newspaper quotes, the hungry questions, stripping off everything he had.

Souji has a picture of them, kissing. Smushed and funny; beautiful. Kame remembers because he waited for it, all the time after the story broke. They'd spent all day in bed. Messing around. Kame took pictures of Souji's funny big toes.

"It's not fair to do something like that. Over restaurants and parties," Jin says, frowning softly. "Or ever."

Kame takes a deep breath, not prepared for how good it feels, to hear it from Jin. "Thanks."

Jin smiles, then nudges the Kame's starter plate closer to him.

Kame laughs weakly. "My ribs, right?" He's not hungry, but the worst of the tension is ebbing. He can maybe find an appetite. The tarte, with its little starry basil tip at the top and the pear fan and Gorgonzola crumbs next to it, looks delicious.

"Totally. Gotta watch out for sharp instruments."

He takes a bite, but it's not to distract; it's just relaxed. Two people getting to know each other. He's not even surprised when Jin asks, "Was he your first boyfriend then?"

"Yeah." Kame fiddles with the stem of his glass, but more alcohol will have to wait. This isn't the club, where he knows he won't suddenly have to be fast at telling clever lies. "I got into the business at fifteen, got told I had potential. I knew even then that it would be more useful if I liked girls." He carefully detaches a sliver from the pear fan. "I tried that twice. Didn't go so great. I was too scared to mess around with random guys. And then there was Souji."

His first, and also his last. But Jin knows that part.

Jin gives him a pained look over his water glass. His Champagne is empty too. "So you knew you were into guys back then, at fifteen?"

"Kind of. I tried not to think about it, but I knew what made me look twice. Though I really tried not to look." And he's curious now; he knows Jin doesn't talk about boyfriends, but this might be different. And Jin can take it however far he wants. "When did you know?"

"Hm," Jin says, but it's not a refusal. "I didn't really know for a while. I knew none of the girls I knew did it for me, and my dad…" Jin is snorting, with a stubborn little stare. "He was kind of paranoid about it before I ever even thought about a guy. In that way, I mean. But I never really… in the place we lived… well."

"Was it rough?"

"Just kind of poor. Normal people, really, but you had to be normal too. Or a drunk or a thug, that was okay. Just really not queer. My dad freaked out that I liked writing s— cause I did stuff he found girly. But there wasn't anybody I liked anyway. Until I was seventeen, then I met Naoki."

Kame's still trying to picture Jin at seventeen, wondering what on earth a father would object to, when it goes quiet. Jin told him the name.

Kame is suddenly nervous. "Your boyfriend?"

Jin nods, exactly once. End of the line. But Jin didn't even have to tell him this much.

"I was seventeen when I met Souji for the first time," Kame says. "But we lost sight of each other for a while."

He doesn't quite dare comment on what Jin told him, afraid he'll seem pushy, but Jin is smiling in that pensive way, like he doesn't regret Kame knows this now, and Kame smiles back.

"I could do with the real food now," Jin says. "I want to know how those funny sounds taste."

Kame laughs out loud again. He didn't pronounce it that well and the waiter said it better, all perfect politeness and subtle correction. But Jin wasn't referring to that.

"It tastes like veal," Kame says, "only nicer. I hope." He cranes his neck for their waiter and it takes all of two seconds before his message is received.

They are quiet in the interlude between the waiter clearing their table and the food arriving. Kame has a cautious look around, but he doesn't know anybody, not even from hearsay or newspapers. The anonymously rich. He and Jin are by far the youngest people around… no, there is one girl, university age and in a tight black dress, eating with a balding gentleman who could well be her father. Except probably not.

Jin seems more interested in the chandeliers. "Do you think they clean them by hand?"

"Hm. That would be a lot of hassle."

"Yeah, but… maybe it's really important. For the shine." Jin squints up at the closest one as though he's trying to find the cleaner's thumbprints on the silver. "I admit I'm kind of glad we're not directly underneath that, though."

Kame grins. "You worry about death by chandelier?"

"Not on an everyday basis," Jin concedes. "But it's just nicer to have it loom over the people at the _next_ table. Don't you think?"

Now Kame has to laugh, but mostly because he agrees; not that he's ever worried about chandeliers, but…

"We stayed in a modern place once on a school trip," Kame says, "and I let the other guy have the top of the bunk bed. I didn't _really_ think I'd fall out of it in my sleep, but I figured I'd give the other guy the opportunity."

Jin looks like he's given him a present. "Like that," he says. "Exactly."

They're still grinning at each other when their food approaches, on huge oval plates that hold almost more decoration than meat. Kame's ordered more than one side dish. There's also a bottle of wine, and Kame goes through the motions of tasting it – part of blending in.

Wine, water, and a ghostly withdrawal. The way Jin eyes the waiter, he could be part of a secret order. Kame doesn't blame him. These guys are the black belts of deferential intimidation.

"Don't let them scare you," he says preemptively, but Jin's just shaking his head.

"You know, I tell people… You know, neighbours and stuff? I tell them I work as a waiter. But I'd never manage _that_."

Kame can see that. Not that Jin would have to. Jin would be the kind of waiter who'd have the customers staring after him. Not that that's something Kame could say.

"Is it difficult," he asks, "keeping people believing that? Would they know much about it?"

Jin shakes his head. "I don't know that many people, anyway. Really just neighbours and, well." He looks at his glass thoughtfully. "One or two others."

Right. He's never asked an escort about his friends before. He won't pry with Jin.

"Anyway," Jin says brightly, "waiters aren't such a fascinating topic, unless you've met _these_ guys." He tilts his head in the direction of the nearest pillar of respectability.

"Like make-up?" Kame ventures.

"Yeah. Exactly like make-up."

*~*~*

Jin spears the last rosette of the pommes duchesse and cuts it conscientiously into two pieces. "You look _forward_ to soggy sandwiches?" he asks dubiously.

Kame has made his wine last all the way through the main course, and now he takes an appreciative sip. "It's not the sogginess as such," he says, making Jin laugh around his fork. "I just like being on location, and it's just not the same without crappy catering."

Jin nods slowly. "Yeah, I guess… I get that." He smiles. "And you can all bond over how bad it is."

"Yes, true," Kame admits. "Sometimes I cook, too, when I can't take it anymore."

He's still picking at the odd bit of vegetable so Jin doesn't feel strange eating his way through what's left of the side dishes. Jin put his cutlery down fifteen minutes ago, with a resigned glance, but Kame remembered late-night pasta adventures and hinted carefully that they had a long evening ahead, and Jin should eat.

He holds up a thin, perfectly cooked green bean. "Still, I'm enjoying _this_ while I can."

"Three weeks is a pretty long time to be gone."

Kame isn't sure whether the regret in Jin's voice is just his imagination. It's weird to think that until recently, he only visited the club every two or three weeks, anyway. This trip wouldn't have felt like such a separation.

"It's unusual for your average movie," he says, sticking with the safe and obvious topic, "but for period ones it's pretty common. They need to control the environment more."

"Oh, so… you don't get power lines in your samurai village?"

"Yes. Or planes overhead."

"I bet cell phones are a pain, too."

"Oh, totally. And you need lots of space for the battle scenes. Too expensive around Tokyo."

Jin is bringing up his fork and raising his head and— Kame doesn't know if Jin's sudden stillness or the measured cough just behind his own shoulder that makes his stomach flip the most.

Turning slowly, Kame still sees Jin putting his fork down and putting on a perfectly polite smile before he is facing the man who just came to say—

"Kamenashi-san, how delightful to see you here."

Someone knows him. Friendly senior face, grandfather glasses. It even takes him a moment to place the man. "Ishikawa-san," Kame says, clearing his throat after the fact. "My pleasure."

Ishikawa smiles deeply. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Since last April; the yearly Yakult campaign just in time for everyone's bikini figure aims.

"Indeed," Kame says, and for a sinking moment it's like forgetting your cue during an intense scene. Only at work you always get second takes.

Then he remembers that he rehearsed this. "May I introduce a colleague of mine – this is Akanishi Jin."

Ishikawa says the usual, bows lightly, and Kame's heart is in his shoes, because he's flushing and Jin is so beautiful and…

"Are you an actor, too?" Ishikawa asks.

And not everybody who's beautiful is an escort.

"I'm a make-up artist."

"Ah! Very important, very important," Ishikawa says. "And very stressful, too, from what I can see when we shoot ads." He nods at Kame again.

"It can get a little busy," Jin says modestly, all smooth and perfect. Maybe Kame can learn something here.

"How are the Swallows getting on?" he asks, because it's expected. "Have you got any promising young players coming through?"

"We will show you in April," Ishikawa winks. "I'm hardly going to let slip our secrets to the opposition."

"You can't blame a man for trying," Kame says, aware that this is trickier than usual because the last season was bad for the Swallows and he doesn't want to gloat. "I'm looking forward to seeing them in action."

Ishikawa laughs at the pleasantry and turns to Jin. "And which team do you support?"

Jin dips is head in apology. "I'm sorry, I don't really know baseball very well."

"Oh!" Ishikawa says, with the perfect light-hearted small-talk surprise. "Just a tip from the experienced if you ever want to acquire a new hobby: Yakult Swallows, up and coming this season."

"I will remember it," Jin says conscientiously.

"Our company is very lucky to have attracted your endorsements for another two years," Ishikawa says to Kame. "I look forward to April."

"It's always a pleasure," Kame says, smiling just as conscientiously. "I look forward to it as well."

Ishikawa casts a look back into the room and next towards the lobby, then smoothes down his jacket like a fidgety schoolboy. "I think my wife snuck past me, she still wanted to go freshen up…"

It sounds funny, and some other day Kame might have made a joke. "Please give her my regards," he says instead, and there are harmless goodbyes and more bows and Ishikawa hoping they will enjoy dessert and recommending the orange-blossom mille feuille, before he heads towards a smiling plump woman in a thick coat and high heels.

Kame tries not to stare after them. But there's the door, sliding shut like a shining plate of metal, and there is only the gleam of tinted glass and copper and the same quiet waiters, and nobody looking back to check on him. Nothing happened.

He's pretty sure nothing happened.

"So," Jin says slowly, "which baseball team should I really support?" He wears a small smile, contained like the rest of him; waiting.

"Giants," Kame says hoarsely, as if Jin's really asking about baseball. "Definitely."

He reaches for his glass to help his dry throat, but his carefully nursed wine is almost gone. Jin is ready with the bottle to pour him some more, but suddenly wine is at once too much and not enough.

"If you'd like, you could finish that," he says to Jin. For himself he pours some water first, to get rid of the scratchy feeling and the impulse to down a glass of alcohol like that. Then, when he feels less desperate, he signals the waiter and asks for whisky.

"That bad?" Jin says. "I thought it went okay."

"It did," Kame says quickly. "Everything's fine. Thank you for that. I'm just…" Not used to this.

"You were totally right about how interesting the job sounds. I could see his eyes glaze over as soon as I said it."

"You sounded very sincere." Kame feels the first knots in his thoughts unravel. Nothing happened. He could have done this years ago. "Here," he says, lifting the bottle, "you need to finish this if I'm moving on to whisky."

Jin eyes the bottle dubiously. "I've already had two glasses."

"And a big meal. _And_ you're going to have dessert."

Jin blinks. "I am?"

Kame waits a moment before pouring, just in case Jin really wants to stop him, but Jin just nods.

"You've earned it," Kame says. "And anyway, they have really good dessert here."

Jin grins. "So I hear. Orange blossom thing-whatsit."

"I prefer the Crêpe Suzette," Kame says, and when Jin looks blank, he adds, "A really thin pancake with sugar and orange rind and Grand Marnier."

"More booze?"

Suddenly Kame is unsure. When Jin puts it like that…

"I'm not trying to get you drunk," he says lamely. "It's just a nice dish. But the Crème Brûlée is also nice… no wait, they flambé that with Brandy. The mille feuille is safe, I think, but it's very rich. And the chocolate mousse…"

"No, it's okay!" Jin says. "I didn't mean… I _don't_ think you're trying to get me drunk. I'm just going to _get_ drunk. Well, tipsy. I don't know if…" He shrugs.

If that's okay with Kame?

"I don't mind if you get tipsy," he says, and it's disturbing to think he should get to decide this, but saying nothing won't help Jin either. "We still have all night. And anyway, you're an adult, I'm not telling you what to drink. Honestly."

"Right," Jin says quickly, and takes couple of gulps from his glass. "I'll have the pancake then."

"But really, if you're worried—"

"I'm not worried, not if you're not worried, now let me have my pancake."

Right, okay. Kame orders one for himself, too, and gets his whisky in return.

*~*~*

For the first time, he dares look around at leisure, crack the invisible bubble he's tried to imagine around Jin and himself. He's not even the only one here with same-sex company; there's a middle-aged man in the far corner, dining with a man of similar age and in a near-identical suit. Colleagues.

"How old are you anyway?" he asks Jin, because he's just realized he doesn't even know.

"Twenty-one," Jin says, and raises his glass. "Totally legal. Kind of boring. It was more exciting before I turned twenty."

Kame sips at his whisky again and nods. "After I turned sixteen, when I still lived at home, my dad would give me a bottle of beer whenever we watched baseball together. It always felt like some dangerous secret between us."

"That sounds nice," Jin says thoughtfully. "I drank with friends. Well, with Naoki mostly, and some of the guys he knew. He was a year and a bit older than me, and he knew people who'd get us stuff."

Jin doesn't have to tell him this. Kame listens and barely dares nod for fear he'll remember that.

"What about your parents?"

"Not with them." Jin falls silent, finding the colour of his wine interesting. Wrong question, then. Kame wonders how to change the subject elegantly, but then Jin puts his glass down again. "I think you get on better with yours than I did with mine."

Just then their crêpes arrive, and they sit back while the waiter deftly burns the sugar at the table before withdrawing with an immaculate bow.

Kame had forgotten that the place was known for its generous dessert portions. Jin looks a little intimidated, but the way he closes his eyes after the first bite of crêpe makes the last tension in Kame unravel.

Suddenly he wants to giggle.

Jin opens his eyes again, strangely focussed. "Are yours okay with you being gay?" he asks, quietly.

Parents. Jin's curious.

Kame feels a flushed, but that could be the whisky or the Grand Marnier, not just the heady awareness that they are talking about personal things.

"I never had the heart to tell them," he admits. He hates that Jin looks almost disappointed. "I… at first it didn't seem to matter much since I didn't have a boyfriend, and when I was with Souji I wasn't living at home, and then…"

Then. Jin is nodding.

"They wouldn't have freaked, though?" he says, and it doesn't sound like criticism, just like he's thinking it through. "Like, they'd have supported you?"

"But I'd have been making them lie." It's not like he never thought about it. "It was too late, by then. And it's been too late since."

Jin drinks what looks like a lot of wine. "Yeah, okay," he says when he puts the glass down. "I guess you're right."

"What about yours?" Kame asks.

"They know," Jin says, and makes a face at his crêpe as though he's found an umeboshi in the oranges.

"I guess… they weren't big on the support front." It's not even a question, he realizes. If Jin had had anyone to fall back on, he'd… they wouldn't be sitting here, right now, talking.

"They flipped when they found out about me and Naoki." Jin props his elbow on the table and leans his chin into his hand. His eyes shift between the almost-empty glass he's twirling between the fingers of his other hand, and Kame's face. "My dad had always thought I might be— well, and then he knew. We had a fight and I got told to leave. I was actually glad to be gone."

He empties his glass.

"That sounds pretty horrible," Kame says.

"Well, Naoki and I moved in together." Jin gives a shrug, then he pushes his glass forward a little.

"You sure?" Kame says. This is uncertain ground and he doesn't want Jin to have regrets later.

"I thought it was my responsibility to empty it."

"Okay." Kame pours him a refill before he has another bite of his crêpe, too. "So," he says after swallowing, "is that how you got to be at the club?"

Jin seems to search Kame's face for something, fork paused randomly in the air. "Eventually," he says, frowning like he's still not sure what he found. "You really want to hear all this stuff?"

"I want to get to know you," Kame says. "But if you don't want to talk about that, that's fine. I realize it's kind of personal."

Jin laughs into his wine glass before he sips at it again.

"Sorry," Kame says illogically, but Jin shakes his head.

"Don't apologize." He plays around with the last quarter of his crepe, folding it once. "We lived together for a while. That was a good time. Only I still couldn't get a job, there wasn't even construction in our area. That kind of place, you know?"

Kame doesn't really, not from personal experience. But of course he's read about it, so he nods. There is a sort of resolution in the way Jin breathes in.

"So I started working, you know, with clients, in the end," he says, and maybe Kame couldn't keep the question from showing, because Jin abandons the crêpe distractions again. "Naoki was doing it when I met him. I mean—" He waves a hand quickly. "That's not _how_ I met him, I didn't even know at the start."

Kame shakes his head, he wasn't thinking anything like that.

Jin takes another small breath. "Anyway, he brought in the money when we were together, for _months_ , so…" He shrugs a tiny shrug, fragile blankness in his eyes. "He knew how to set stuff up. It was just fair."

"Sure," Kame says, which sounds dumber than he means it but it seems to be okay anyway.

"Right," Jin says, and when he reaches for the wine again his shoulders no longer look like someone has locked them in place. "So that's how that started, and then Naoki left, and I couldn't pay the rent alone, and then I was kind of here and there."

Kame stares at him, at Jin's fleeting half-smile. Distant aunts in Hokkaido or school friends with spare beds don't sound like that.

Jin's mouth twists again, like he's sorry he's made Kame feel bad. "I met a guy late last autumn in Shinjuku. He was also, you know. Someone like me. He'd managed to hold on to his place, took me in. We split the rent and that got me through a few months."

"But you couldn't stay there?"

"No, he died in January. Got killed. There were cops. I took off."

Kame nods. Waits. There's nothing he can say.

"So anyway." Jin sounds almost like it's all okay. "I moved around for a while, and then Ootomo-san found me a few weeks before you… in July. Got me an apartment and a new wardrobe and… so that was fine."

At last. January to July is a long time.

Kame once played a guy who lost his job and his family, and he remembers the research and all the horribly depressing stories, but even those were still almost normal lives, not January to July and then Ootomo as the happy ending, and then he thinks he shouldn't even be thinking about stupid movies, and when he looks up again, Jin is frowning, fingers curled nervously around his wine glass.

"Don't feel bad now, okay? That's not why I told you."

"No, I know," Kame says quickly. "And thanks. I mean. I'm just glad…" He can't say that. Only a moron would say that, given what happened between them.

But Jin seems to know what he meant, and he's not angry. "I'm glad to be where I am now, too," he says, and then he contemplates the colour of his wine again. "So now you know."

"Yeah." Kame has a large gulp of his whisky at the same time as Jin empties his wine glass, and suddenly they're laughing.

"Yeah," Jin echoes, and for a moment they're quiet; a longer moment, and Jin starts mopping up the liqueur on his plate with the last of the pancake while Kame decides he's had enough, even though the restaurant no longer feels like an eerie set for the wrong movie, and somehow he forgot to worry about exposure and publicity for a good while now.

Jin smiles at Kame, then follows with his eyes as someone else's dinner plates walk past, two leaves of chicory sticking out like yellow-tipped rabbit ears.

"Cute," he comments, but from the shy glances between them and the way his smile comes and fades, Kame can tell that it's still going around in his head, what they know about each other now.

Kame watches him scoop up two spoons of the Grand Marnier and checking if he was allowed, and somehow it seems impossible that anyone would turn him away if he showed up on their doorstep needing help. Just a little help. Some shelter.

Jin catches him again. "What is it?"

Kame smiles awkwardly. "A nosy question."

"Ask it."

Okay, right. Kame still has to clear his throat. "I was just… with things being like that, I was wondering… you really couldn't go back to your parents? I mean, especially when your boyfriend was no longer there. And— I don't mean that that wouldn't be hard, but, just…" Better than the other things Jin had to do. "Just to tide you over."

"Yeah," Jin says, arranging the spoon very neatly on his empty plate. "That would have… I'd have tried that only they… we didn't just argue."

Kame tries not to think of things that aren't his business, that he's got no right to know. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"No, it's not that. It's a fair question." For the first time, Jin looks uncomfortable again, more self-conscious than when Kame imagined cardboard boxes and sex in sleazy public toilets. "I hit my dad." Between blinks, he keeps staring at Kame so hard it makes Kame even more careful.

"That… yeah," Kame says, making a face at how inadequate it is.

"I was at home alone with Naoki, but my parents walked in on us, and there was lots of shouting and a big mess and then my dad shoved Naoki. And I hit him. And then we took off."

It sounds sad. Sad and horrible, and not like it should get you months out in the cold, but at least it makes a bit more sense; Kame can see how it would, with the wrong sort of parents.

January to July. It was a cold winter, too.

"My mother packed my stuff up and put it out front. With a note. So that was the last I saw of that place."

Kame has no idea what to say. In the end he just nods. "I need another drink," he decides, and Jin finds a smile.

"I think I'll have one too."

Jin gets Port, and Kame more whisky. They both decide against investigating the cheese selection.

"Can I ask a nosy question back?" Jin says after the waiter has left.

Kame takes a deep gulp. "Anything you like."

"How did you meet Souji-san? When you can't really be… open about stuff? Was it just by accident?"

"Kind of," Kame says. "I wasn't really famous yet when we first met." Looking back, that had definitely helped. "I was shooting a drama, first time I was the co-lead on anything. He was doing part-time work with the sound team, and he was kind of… I kind of noticed him. Though I was too preoccupied with people hating me to really figure anything out."

Jin's eyes have gone wide. "Who hated you?"

"Everyone, I thought." Looking back, it seems funny. "It wasn't a friendly set. I can tell now the director was kind of a jerk, but back then I didn't know what had hit me. The others were more experienced and could handle it better, but the mood was tense, and I got so nervous I couldn't sleep, kept messing up my lines and that just made it worse… I was sure they'd kill my character off halfway through the season because I was so bad at everything."

Jin is frowning like that's a totally ridiculous suggestion, but underneath there's something soft and thoughtful. "And he was nice to you?"

"At first he was just… there. You know, he was tall and good-looking, and he didn't _glower_ at me." It makes them both laugh, even though they know how it ended. "And, well, then one day I ended up hiding in the toilets bawling, and that's when Souji came in and I couldn't get away and it was all very embarrassing."

Jin's put his glass down to hide his eyes. "Oh god, I'm getting embarrassed right along with you here," he mumbles between his hands, and Kame can't help smiling into his whisky glass.

"He managed to be really cool about it somehow. So, yeah. He was nice. Only I never thought about it the other way, I'd trained myself to be so careful. We actually got together two years later, when he was also working on the earthquake movie."

"Oh. The one that got all the housewives to want you to marry their daughters."

"Yeah. That one. Ironic, isn't it?"

Jin smiles. "A little." He regards Kame with more thoughts; wondering about gay actors and closets and housewives, maybe, or about falling in love with guys in bathrooms. Souji is complicated.

Then he breaks into a tipsy grin. "You know," he says. "I tried to get that from the library, and it was constantly taken out."

Now Kame hides his eyes. "I doubt you'd like it. It's really… all romance, the earthquake's just scenery, dramatic flames and all that."

"I admit I didn't want to buy it," Jin confesses. "I got the one where you play the construction guy, though."

Kame nods. It's a romance, too, but everything he does is a romance, he has to live with that, for now. "There's some interesting social commentary in that," he concedes.

Jin gives him an odd look. "Some interesting scenery, too," he says soberly.

Kame thinks of dockyards and derelict housing estates and maybe Jin finds it interesting because he's come from a place like…

Jin is having a minor coughing fit into his drink, and Kame gets it. "Oh."

He might well be blushing now.

"They _really_ liked to make you take your shirt off," Jin says with a wide grin.

Kame remembers neverending photo shoots in which he had to look like he knew what he was doing with any amount of hardware, and people kept teasing him about his nipples. But mostly he's trying not to get too flustered by the focus in Jin's eyes.

"I spent a couple of months training before we started filming," he says. "Boxing and weights. I didn't want to look totally unbelievable."

Jin nods in understanding. "You were kind of weedy before. Your training really paid off." The way he's looking at Kame's shoulders and chest makes Kame feel like he's half-naked on a photo shoot again, only he doesn't have to worry about his make-up or drape himself sexily over cold things, Jin's gaze is warm even through the shirt and they'll get home soon and… and that was kind of weird.

"Did you carry on with that after the series?" Jin asks. "I think you kept the arms. It's nice."

"Thanks," Kame says, still a little flushed, with booze or with the other kind of heat. "Um. I do a bit. Push-ups every day, and the last couple of weeks I've been going to the gym. They want the samurai to take his shirt off, too."

Jin turns his glass on the thick tablecloth, faint colour in his cheeks, too. "I should feel sorry for the poor guy in Hokkaido in January, but I'm afraid I'm kind of looking forward to it."

Right. Kame hesitates, but isn't even sure why. "If the swords aren't essential, I think shirtlessness could be arranged much sooner and with less freezing," he says, and then he almost holds his breath.

Jin looks up from his glass with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "That sounds very acceptable."

*~*~*

There are fewer occupied tables when Kame has a look around, the check dealt with and the cab on its way. Just some couples and a group, with an occasional quiet laugh or a well-mannered giggle rising up. They all seem happy and a little boozy, just like Kame and Jin.

Nobody paid them any attention. Kame was right.

Then he almost jumps when the waiter seems to materialize out of thin air. "Your car is waiting for you, sir."

He and Jin nod at each other, all proper and discreet and totally normal colleagues. Even with the way Jin is smiling at the floor when the waiter turns away.

Kame gets up. So do his wine, three whiskies and the pancake sauce – _way_ up, all the way to his brain and whoa, okay.

He blinks while he balances out, fingertips pressed to the table, and then there are their jackets, which should be easy enough because, hey, jackets. They've both done that loads of times.

He watches Jin slide his arms haphazardly into the sleeves, makes sure not to giggle and fails to do better.

"This could be a problem," Jin frowns as they step towards the car waiting in the cool night air. "I think I'm too fat to get through the door."

"I can push," Kame offers helpfully.

"That'll be inconspicuous."

True. He should think of these things. He shouldn't have had so much to drink. "Okay," he amends, "I can get those guys in the uniforms to push."

Jin eyes them sulkily. "That wouldn't be the same," he says, and Kame only barely stops himself from snickering at the image.

The driver holds the door, face impassive as Jin's polite bow turns into a sudden collapse and only his shoes are visible for a moment before he pulls them after himself into the car. Kame tries to produce a dignified smile, but gives up when he bumps into the corner of the car as he walks to the other side.

And then they're inside and the doors are closed and nothing really matters any more.

"I don't know if I should have had more to drink or less," Jin says, stretching his legs out in front of him and wriggling drowsily in the seat. "I mean, I've had too much, but some liqueur might have helped with the monster portions of food. I don't think I'll be eating again before Wednesday." He stretches out even more, and tries to touch the far end of the compartment with the tips of his shoes. "This is some car."

"It's got a mini bar somewhere," Kame remembers. "Try those cherrywood panels, see what's behind them."

Jin throws up his hands. "I was kidding about drinking more! Ootomo says passing out in polite company isn't good form."

But he starts investigating the panels anyway, and right enough, there's the bar, and a stereo player, and something that looks like a small water basin, and then he finds the controls for the tint of the windows and pulls back with raised hands as if from a particular creepy crawly… crawling thing. Kame snorts, but starts looking around, too.

"I heard some of these have hot tubs in them," he says.

"I think we'd have noticed that one," Jin ponders, but eyes the floor anyway, and then Kame finds what he's been looking for.

He flips a switch.

There's an ear-piercing shriek. "The— it—"

Kame can't really hear the rest of Jin's spluttering because he's too busy curling up on the shaking seat, laughing.

Under his messed-up mop of hair, Jin has the most adorable frown on his face; he pokes the leather as if it will bite him and that sets Kame off again. Finally, Jin grins too, and carefully lowers himself back onto the seat with a look of intense, wary concentration.

"I take it that's a feature, not a bug?" he says as he's being gently vibrated off the leather.

"Massage seats," Kame says, and finally manages to stop laughing. "I'm doing it wrong, actually, you're meant to lie down with your back— like so—" He turns, feeling too full for his clothes, and demonstrates how the shoulders should meet the massage points. He takes the opportunity to unbutton the jacket and tug his tie loose.

Jin gets a drunkenly focused look on his face. "Aha!" Then he faithfully copies Kame's movements, right down to the loosening of clothes. "That… helps."

Kame hums his agreement, watching under lowered eyelids as Jin fidgets around for just the right spots.

"Okay," Jin declares after thirty silent seconds. "That is awesome."

"Glad you like," Kame smiles, his body getting heavier with the luxury of it all. "It can make you sleepy…"

Jin leans his head back; he probably doesn't even know how soft it makes his face look. "That would be sad."

But it's not true, Kame's not really tired. Just fuzzy, and mellow with food and booze, and he could lie here and watch Jin enjoy himself for a really long time.

They both start to grin at the same time. Jin kicks lightly against Kame's shoe and asks, "Are we there yet?"

*~*~*

They're there twenty minutes later, after just long enough to get thoroughly relaxed and hate having to button up again and pull the ties in tight so they can look respectable and businesslike for any neighbours who might be out late walking their dogs.

There aren't any. And then the door of Kame's apartment falls shut behind him and it's over, truly over, nothing unforeseen can happen now. The blinds went down automatically when it got dark, and a small light beside the couch is on. The world is outside.

Kame drops his dinner jacket in a heap on the shoe rack and starts dragging off his tie. Jin says, "Don't do that," and picks the jacket up to put it on a hanger beside his own, and Kame says, "Sorry," and then they laugh.

Kame pours himself a glass of water and gets another one for Jin. They're both leaning against the kitchen counter.

"That was a nice evening," Jin says, and he's tugging at his own tie now, too. "Thank you." He gives Kame a sideways look. "Did you have fun, too? You weren't as neurotic as I thought you'd be."

Kame snorts water up his nose and quickly puts his glass down.

"You know what I mean," Jin says sheepishly.

"Yeah, I know. I had fun, too." Kame smiles, feeling oddly shy. "We can do that again."

Jin nudges him gently in the side, and Kame grins for no particular reason.

"I should eat less next time, though," Jin says. "I feel like a pot-bellied pig."

"Hm." Kame tips his head sideways, carefully in case the room decides to tilt along with it. "I see nothing."

" _Good_ ," Jin laughs.

"But seriously, would you like anything else? Something for the food to settle?"

Jin tilts his head, too. Just a little. Nothing woozy about that. "Not really."

"Drambuie?"

"Hmm." Jin's eyes look darker with the hair falling into his face, and there's a different little smile there. "You know how to tempt a guy, but no, I think I've had enough."

Kame has to think. All part of the newness. They haven't done outside dates before. Usually they sit on the couch, with booze, with stories, getting to know each other.

Jin wants no booze, and they've learned so much about each other today.

So much Kame tries to be sober and think again, because he wants things to stay this great, and Jin is waiting for something, watching him like…

Jin gets in his space. Right in his space, with the smile deepening and his breath warm between them; and it's Jin, and not much room at all with him there and the kitchen counter, and Kame feels a rush of heat inside and out.

"Don't you want to kiss me?"

Heat everywhere, on his skin and under. And they haven't even touched yet. "Yeah," he says, "yeah, I want that."

Jin's mouth is sweet from the Port when Kame pulls him in, and Jin's arms slide around him, and Jin is humming softly at each little lick.

This is what he likes. This strength, and the push of hips when he presses close, the warm scent there in the bend of Jin's neck. He wants more of it. He barely tries buttons with his clumsy fingers before tugging Jin's shirt free and sliding his hands under, and up, and Jin gives a cute little gasp.

"Stupid fiddly things, huh," he laughs, ticklish in Kame's ear, shaky under his palms. His fingers hook into the loops of Kame's pants.

"Very stupid," Kame concurs, splaying his hands wide, touching as much of Jin as he can. "They're like advanced level buttons."

"So sorry," Jin says, only clearly he's not, and Kame giggles into his neck. Then he starts to nuzzle, because Jin arching back like this is _hot_ and there's an erection pressing against his own, too, and Kame's got to do something if he's not going to hump Jin randomly in his kitchen.

"Uh, maybe bed would be—" He sucks in a breath when Jin thrusts against him teasingly, a shock through their four combined layers of clothing.

"Bed good," Jin says. "Naked good." His next thrust is more like a rub, lighter and lingering. "I'll be as quick as I can in the shower."

"You don't have to," Kame says, and then his impaired brain catches up. "Shower, I mean, you don't have to shower, not be quick. Be not quick." Jin has pulled back a little, and he's giving him a very interested look. "I mean," Kame says, "you don't have to be quick either. If you shower. Which you don't have to. Oh god," he says when Jin flops forward with his chin on Kame's shoulder and laughs helplessly.

"Whatever you prefer, really," Jin manages in the end, when Kame has had time to think about what he's really meaning to say. "If you don't mind that the last time I showered was this afternoon."

"I like it when you're just normal," Kame says. "But if you're more comfortable showering, that's fine, too. Seriously, whatever you like. I can do whatever you like, too."

Jin turns his head so he can kiss up along Kame's neck, and after a slow moment he moves around behind his ear. Kame holds still against the shiver.

"Normal is good," Jin says then. "Bed, normal, naked." He gives a small thrust of his hips again. "Now?"

"Right now."

They do get delayed a bit on their teetering towards the bed, which is a complicated project with Jin holding on to his belt loops and Kame breaking into giggles when he first steers them into the dining table.

But then they manage not to injure each other with elbows or other sharp appendages as they fall down on the mattress, though Jin makes a face at the thumping sound.

"Kame," he says seriously. "I think I broke your bed."

Kame bobs a few times experimentally before he thinks better of bouncing his dinner around like that. "Hm, I think it's fine."

"Are you sure? Maybe it's okay with just your weight, but…" Jin bounces himself sideways until he's right alongside him. His eyes are big and innocent.

"We should simulate a more realistic scenario," Kame nods, rolling on top of Jin, failing to stop and rolling right off on the other side. "Whoops."

Jin stretches out over him like it's the easiest thing in the world and Kame's head goes all woozy again, desire pooling low in his body underneath all the joking and the warm fuzzy feeling of Jin trying to tickle his side, mumbling things about promised shirtlessness.

"Are _you_ up to the buttons?"

Jin looks up, blowing his hair out of his face. It reminds Kame absurdly of Ran-chan and makes him laugh out loud again.

"Should I feel insulted?" Jin asks. His mock-threat is about as scary as Ran-chan too.

Kame shakes his head against the sheet. "No, no, I'm sure you're great with buttons." And _Jin_ was worried about getting tipsy.

Turns out Jin's a total cheat, though, because he stops bothering after the second button and moves his attention further south instead.

Through clothes, Kame thinks, they don't even touch skin and he catches himself at a helpless noise anyway with Jin palming him through his pants, innocent and hot and strangely illicit, like they're rolling around on an after-school date.

He's not sure, but he thinks there's a grin in Jin's mouth where it's pressed against Kame's neck.

When Jin stops for a moment, Kame says, "Wait," and fumbles in a hand so he can get at his belt, deal with the button of his trousers. The rest is a question of desperate squirming, not what you'd want to do with a Prada original under normal circumstances and he half expects Jin to tell him off again, but Jin rolls off the bed and strips so quickly he nearly trips himself up.

It's Jin who grabs the bottom ends of Kame's trousers for the final pull and hangs both pairs over a chair, and Kame manages to lose the rest of his clothes and push them efficiently off the bed where Jin can't see.

Jin halts briefly just to look before he gets back on the bed, and Kame says, "What?" when he nods to himself with a little smirk.

"The push-ups are working," Jin says, "and you passed the rib check again. All very satisfactory."

Kame lunges for his arm and pulls until Jin makes an ooof sound and topples onto him, and they just fit together, and he lets Jin kiss him long and slow while they move against each other in tiny little pushes.

Not too fast, with all the food and booze between them, and just right, an endless tease getting Kame damp and shivery all the way down to his toes.

"I'm not too heavy?" Jin mumbles. "I _feel_ really heavy."

Kame laughs low in his stomach, "Yeah, like there's two of you," and holds on.

It's still Jin who turns them over and does something… complicated with his legs that— oh, right.

"If you lift that knee," Jin suggests helpfully, and Kame's on to the task except suddenly he feels like a drugged octopus trying to hold his balance without losing all that contact, and eventually he's lying between Jin's legs and Jin is giggling in a high voice and Jin's cock is pressing nice and hard against Kame's belly.

It's dreamy and a little tricky at the same time, moving around so he can get what he needs without upsetting the thing Jin has going, finding a rhythm that works for them both. But they get it right, and it doesn't take long at all until every move sends a tingle down his spine, and the way Jin never quite breathes out tells him something is working there, too.

Jin shifts minutely and whatever he did, it adds something, tingle turning to want, and Kame sucks in a breath and can't help pushing back hard.

There's a chuckle from Jin, and then he slows down.

"How do you want me?" he says.

Kame has to breathe; good question, that, and weirdly hot, and he slips his hands down Jin's thighs and holds on for just a moment with his eyes closed, trying to form a coherent thought.

"Get stuff," Jin says quietly. "I think you're good to go."

Okay, not going to turn down directions in a moment of need; and then there's the choice of trying to get up and finding Jin's bag wherever, or just stretching for the drawer for the ones from last time and trying not to fall on his face while Jin keeps petting him, and that second one works, and he's kind of proud of himself.

Kame normally doesn't get this stupid when he's horny, but somehow it feels like he's never moved on a bed with anybody before, never tried to arrange them for sex, and when he loses the lube in the creases of the sheet Jin giggles at him and tries to be helpful by pulling in his knees.

He kind of makes a face. "God. My legs may be drunk."

So at least Kame's not the only one. He blinks at Jin's legs, pretty and strong and… and tipsily uncoordinated and god, they will _never_ get this sorted. And they've had so much to eat that it can't be comfortable for Jin, getting all squashed up, and after Jin wriggles for an easier angle he seems to hit on that thought too.

His hands are brushing up Kame's arms, clumsy but warm and kind of sweet. "I can turn over," he says. "We can be practical here."

Kame pictures it. Doesn't want it, it looks all wrong. "No," he says, and Jin doesn't read that right, tries to get his legs to co-operate; so Kame starts lowering himself again, forgets the friction for his dick for a moment, and takes care not to drop, or poke Jin, or be anything but comfortable. "I don't want to be practical with you."

He kisses Jin on the mouth, and when he rolls on his side he pulls Jin along. They've fallen apart somewhat but that can be fixed, so he slides his hands around to Jin's back until there's no space left lonely between them. "How'd you feel about this? Think that would work for you?" Jin hesitates. "Sure, I'd enjoy that. But it's not really… is that really what you want?"

"You couldn't tell I liked it earlier?" Kame asks back, trailing his fingers up to Jin's shoulders.

"Yeah, but it's not…" Jin trails off, shrugs. Kame knows what he means.

"It's _nice_ ," he insists, not that practical is always not nice and he even knows that, and taking Jin like that doesn't have to be anything other than what Kame makes it but he doesn't care. This is nicer.

Jin concedes with a smile, and finally slides his arm over Kame, embracing him back. "It is."

"Right, so."

"So…" He's starting to look quite enthusiastic. "Where were we?"

"Closer," Kame says, and Jin happily agrees with that, and with the shuffling and shifting that follows Jin somehow manages to put his hip precisely in the right place for him.

"I like closer," Jin says with the first teasing thrust. "You have good plans."

Kame stretches up a bit. "Thank you," he breathes before he takes Jin's mouth again.

They start slow, gentle; there's perfect fit for Kame but he waits, tests, until Jin goes tense on a tight roll of Kame's hips, sucking hard on his tongue and then Kame does it harder, and Jin thrusts back, and it's easy, picking up on each other's moves and gasps, easier when Jin's arms finally go around him, too.

"Feels good," Jin whispers, and Kame laughs again, saying something about how that's the point, how he loves it, and they get closer still and sweatier when Jin slides his hands down to Kame's ass.

Kame can feel how hard they both are, but he can feel so much more, too, Jin's skin and his breaths and the strength of his hands, and how they're matching each other when nobody tries to lead. They must look silly as the rhythm gets more urgent but he doesn't care, and when Jin grabs him harder to grind against it's so good it's almost— he's so close except— suddenly he's not sure because he didn't ask, and then Jin burrows his face in Kame's neck and breaks past their rhythm, going fast and even faster until he stops, panting in Kame's ear and his hands digging into Kame's ass, and then a warm sticky mess between them.

So that's okay then, Kame thinks, and he's sure when Jin nudges him and shifts to offer him a good angle again.

It's more slippery now, friction not quite working like expected, and the first slide is weird and fast and Kame says, "whoops," and Jin giggles and holds him closer. The next push is better, and building up on that the next, and Jin makes a pleased kind of sound, and it's like there was hardly a break at all; Kame closes his eyes, nothing in his head but Jin all around him and the heat and Jin's skin sticky and wet and it feels so fucking _good_ ; and when he comes Jin pulls him in with a hand on his head, and when he's stopped gasping there's a kiss.

Suddenly Kame wants to giggle, too, and he's not even sure why. It was just so different, unexpected and… like it's all new and they're just starting out. Jin won't stop touching him, long strokes over Kame's sweaty back, and yes, so nice, just holding on while you're still shivering. Kame hasn't done it like this in ages.

He presses his face closer to Jin, wishing they'd never have to cool down, and Jin's hand tightens in his hair.

"You were right," he whispers. "That was nice."

Kame hums profound agreement against his shoulder, and Jin squirms a little. Collarbones. Feeling evil, Kame blows a silent stream of air onto his skin, and Jin squirms more.

"Hey," he says, but there's a grin in his voice.

"I'll miss this," Kame finds himself saying. "I'll miss you when I'm away." Three weeks has never seemed long like that.

Jin pauses for a moment, then hugs him lazily. "Just come see me when you're back," he says. "And make sure you don't catch a cold. Or miss your flight or something."

"Or hack off an arm."

"Shhh!"

Kame laughs again.

"I like your arms," Jin says, putting a pouty kiss on Kame's wrist. "I'd miss them."

Kame closes his eyes against Jin's chest and promises he'll be careful. What else can he do, with incentive like that.


	36. Chapter 36

### Thursday 22 January

Custom's going slow in the bar, the noise still low enough for easy talking. It's early, and the only people there are those who were keen on the sofa seats, like the young schoolteacher and his girlfriend, and some of the more nervous singers wanting a quick trial run with the band and hanging around for liquid courage after. Some of them can be very liquid by the time they get on, but people are usually kind.

Jin helped Goto-san with the sound check again earlier and wiped down the tables. Now he's kicking back with Tomo and a bottle of Yebisu, waiting for the rush to start.

"Anyway, I thought I'd really do the slow one this time," Tomo says, and Jin grins because he's been saying it for weeks now.

"I should make up some interesting penalty if you chicken out again."

They turn because heavy footsteps are clomping up the stairs from the cellar.

"All done," Saeki-san says when he appears. He's the younger of the two delivery guys, with a very short neck and the bulky arms of someone who lugs crates around for a living. "Sure you don't want to up the Yebisu order? You were pretty low."

Tomo's grimace is subtle enough that only Jin catches it. "Not my decision, I'm afraid," he says. Jin knows he'd also like to get some Asahi Black in. "I'm just the muscle."

"But the place is rocking on your nights," Saeki says encouragingly. Sometimes he comes by when his rounds are finished, for the music, though he claims he's never going to sing. "I'd say you're doing it right."

Jin nods to that, and Saeki checks his boss is still in no hurry, taking a break in the van outside with his complimentary coke, before sliding into the barstool next to Jin. Break time for all.

"By the way, I had a talk with my brother," he says to Jin. "He said he had a bit of a test when he started? But he wants to be an electrician, so I think he's got to know about not electrocuting himself and crap like that. Do you know what you're looking at?"

They talked a bit about apprenticeships last week, after Jin admitted he never learned anything new after his dodgy high school diploma.

"I kind of like cars," Jin says. "I was thinking of doing something with that. I'm not so good with numbers."

"There's always business in cars, they keep breaking down," Saeki says wisely. "Once you're past the apprenticeship, you've got it made. Trick is getting past that."

"Difficult?" Tomo asks, handing over the sheets he signed and initialled.

"Nah, just… they don't pay well. My brother gets a bit, but it wouldn't be enough without my parents."

"Yeah," Jin says, "I guessed that. But I'm saving up." It won't be a problem, in a year.

"For a guy who doesn't like being a waiter, you spend a lot of time helping out here," Goto-san says, reaching past Jin behind the bar where he left his own beer. They're getting good at working together, but Jin still calls him Slayer guy in his head half the time. Today it's the Reign in Blood tour t-shirt from 2006 again; Jin always thinks that's a weird misspelling.

"Shut up, don't discourage him!" Tomo says, and Jin laughs into his drink.

"Better atmosphere here," he says. "I get to eat peanuts. And the compensation's okay, too." He dangles his beer.

Tomo restocks the fridge, and Jin and Saeki have another chat about Metallica and CDs versus downloads, not that Jin even owns a computer. He then watches the bar for a bit while Tomo takes a call from Emi-san, and pours the usual drinks when the nice couple who always sing duets arrive. Kihara-san is wrapped up tight in gloves and two layers of scarves, while Kitayama is making due with an orange windbreaker.

"Hey, you're getting better at the draft thing," Kihara teases Jin when he manages not to fill up half her glass with froth. He is concentrating too hard to be cheeky in return, but he's quite proud of the very professional-looking beers he puts on the bar eventually.

Kitayama returns from hanging their jackets over some chairs. He's actually wearing a t-shirt. In January. Voluntarily. And not even ordering hot tea.

"Don't mind her," he says. "She's been fighting with the neighbours all week, it takes a while for the aggression to ease off. But she'll get there."

"We should sing some deathcore," Kihara says with big intense eyes, and they all laugh. Jin listens to stories about scheming neighbours and the dangers of living with middle-aged housewives, and he's grinning at a description of a very flustered postman when he hears his phone, the soft little melody that is Kame's ringtone.

It's weird how his heart skips a little and he feels a grin spreading over his face.

"Excuse me," he says, and in the few moments it takes to move far enough aside to answer the phone, he somehow finds time to remember that Kame is still in Hokkaido, and to wonder why he's calling, and maybe there were chopped-off arms after all, and he's almost apprehensive by the time he finally says, "Hello?"

"Jin!"

Kame doesn't sound like he's chopped off anybody's arm, and Jin feels the grin coming back. "Hi! How's the frozen north?"

Kame's voice laughs in his ear. "It was pretty frozen when I left."

"You left? I thought you were there until Saturday."

"I didn't fall off the sandals," Kame says, "I got out early. Listen, Jin, my wife is out and nobody else expects me anyway, I'm in town tonight with nothing to do, do you fancy meeting up? Anytime that suits you will be fine."

Jin needs a moment to absorb all that, and another to… to know what he's thinking. Because meeting Kame… meeting Kame is always great, but it's Open Mic night which is… which is the other great thing, and he'd have to wait another week… and he can't leave anyway, he remembers, he promised Tomo to help him until Emi-chan gets in at ten. But ten is late, for a trip across the city. And it's his day off.

Kame noticed the silence. "No good?" he asks. The energy has gone from his voice, but he doesn't sound put off. "If you have… if you are busy, I understand. I was short notice, I'm sorry. Don't worry about it."

He could say he's busy. It would be perfectly okay.

"It's just, it's my day off," he says. "And there's stuff… I'm meeting some friends, I've got a thing."

"Oh," Kame says. "That's great. Everybody needs days off. Maybe we can make it Tuesday? Or Wednesday, I think I've got… sorry. We can find something next week."

"And it's not just, I mean, we're not just hanging out randomly, there's a thing with singing." Jin doesn't even know why he's babbling on like that.

"Karaoke?" Kame sounds like he thoroughly approves of karaoke for Jin. Jin wonders if he's acting.

"An Open Mic night. At a bar. I don't know if you know about them? People just stand up and sing, sometimes it's their own songs, but often covers, but there's a band and some people play their own instruments."

"I've heard of it," Kame says. "I'm sure it's fun. I hope you have fun." Silence again. It feels weird after all those words. "So, we talk again next week?"

"Yeah," Jin says quickly, "or do you want to—" He catches himself, unsure suddenly how he got to— never mind. "Do you want to come?"

This silence is different. "To the bar?"

"Well, nobody knows what I do here, you could just be some guy I know. A friend. And after, well, I don't live far from there." He reminds himself to breathe. Deeply. "Sorry," he says then. "It's probably a stupid idea. I know it's kind of…"

"No, it's cool, it's great. I'd love to come."

Suddenly Jin's heart is beating in his throat. He's not sure why. Probably got his choice of reasons. But then he gets with it, says, "Okay, great," before Kame can even think it's not, and then he tries to think logically. It's not actually that hard. Jin works at a private club. Kame likes music. Totally fine.

He gives Kame directions, dashing past Tomo and Goto into the tiny office to find a post code for the navigation or the taxi driver. Noises at the other end of the line sound like Kame has managed to spill the contents of his glove compartment on the floor in the search for paper.

"Dress code?" Kame then asks, and Jin is glad somebody is thinking the right thoughts here.

"Basic," he says, "very basic. Jeans if you have any."

He doesn't know why Kame finds that so funny.

"I think I can find a pair," Kame giggles, but then he goes sober again. "I'll try to make it hard to recognize me, but you'll have to tell me if I look too deranged."

"Don't worry," Jin says, "we have a few guys who think wearing sunglasses in a dim bar makes them into cool rockers. You'll fit right in."

"As long as nobody asks me to sing." Kame goes silent for a moment. "People may recognize me anyway."

Jin chews his lip. "Would that be really bad?"

"No! No, not really, I can be interested in amateur music if I want to be…" He trails off. "Hey, would it be okay if I asked Tanaka-san if he wants to come along? To the bar? He goes to these things sometimes, I think, it would make it easier to explain…"

Tanaka. Another client. Not one of Jin's, thank god, but still. Club people. Which is different from Kame, who is just… Kame, but maybe it shouldn't be so different and maybe it will even help to have someone there to keep him from being stupid. He doesn't know.

"I don't have to," Kame is saying. "I'll come along anyway."

"Sure, go ahead and ask him," Jin says, ignoring how weird it feels to imagine drinking with Tanaka, here. "It's a free country, the bar's open to all." He manages a laugh. "Even to rappers."

"Great, okay!" Kame's got the enthusiasm back even if now he has to dress like a hobo mummy, and Jin says he'll let Ootomo know, because it's better not to forget that.

"I want to drop my car off at the apartment, I hope to get there before nine, okay?"

"Sounds great," Jin says, and they hang up. He's smiling at the old black-and-white flyer on Tomo's pinboard where he found the address, and then sobriety sinks into his guts as he wonders what he's doing here.

At least he made it into the office, and nobody can see him. That's good. He stares at Tomo's scribblings on the board, at the bar rotations and a list of phone numbers that include beer delivery services, pizza take-out and Yoshi's school.

He's crazy. Except this time he's not really crazy, and he's got no excuse. He's just invited Kame to the one place he's kept all to himself, the one thing safe from the club. And that's not even considering Tanaka, and _two_ clients knowing things they have no business knowing, and he is such an idiot.

He flips the phone open again and glances at his meagre contact list. Kame's is the second name in the list right after the office. Just as well he hasn't called Ootomo yet.

They can meet next week. Make it Wednesday, and the wait won't kill either of them; why should it? Kame will be… disappointed but he won't hold a grudge; he'll understand. Everybody needs days off.

He closes the phone.

He'll need another moment before he can talk to Ootomo.

Maybe he just won't sing. Kame isn't coming for that.

But, no, that's not fair, and Jin's not going to lie to himself. Kame likes Jin's company, and Jin likes his, and that's why he's doing this and if he had any sense, he'd have called it off. But who knows, maybe Kame has called Tanaka already, and now it's too late, and he'll just live with his stupidity.

Tomo sticks his head through the door. "Everything okay with you?"

"Yeah, sure," Jin says. Well, they'll see. He holds up his phone. "Just got a phone call." Inviting his client to the Open Mic. Holy fuck.

"Ah, right! No rush on my account, just thought you should know Lousy Trouser are about to set up their bass," Tomo grins at him. "They want to start a run in ten."

Jin nods in understanding; good to have notice, and he gets over himself in time to call the office without electric guitars blaring in the background, to tell Ootomo he's got a date.

*~*~*

He spends the next ten minutes pouring drinks, checking Tomo's small change and wondering every time someone looks at him what they'd say if they knew he's a whore. Kihara with her sparkly self-made jewelry and her nice smiles, Goto when he asks Jin's opinion on the Lousy Trouser acoustics, the office guy from last time who crashed and burned on Hamazaki Ayumi songs but is here to try again.

Then he stops. Reminds himself that nobody is going to find out because Kame doesn't want that, either. Maybe Kame's worrying just as much whether he's made a stupid mistake with this. They'll both be careful, it'll be fine.

He gets a beer from the fridge for himself and chills with some determination. Twenty minutes later he gets an e-mail from Kame that says Tanaka is coming, and they are aiming for eight-thirty.

Right.

Next to him Tomo is drafting beer. He's much faster at it than Jin. Somehow Jin wants to tell him he's got a friend coming; warn him, maybe, about outsiders. Or about the music scene audience. But also just tell him. It's a strange feeling.

The last two weeks at work were dull with Kame nowhere except on TV. Yamatani brought Yamanashi _primeur_ wine and Yokoyama had a good week on the markets again, but even that isn't something he wants to think about at the bar. No rests with anyone, and he'll notice that on his bank balance at the end of the month, but he's still happier without them.

Tomo said he's mentioned in a few places that he's got a friend looking for an apartment. The sooner something happens there, the better.

And he'll introduce Kame later, and then he wonders why he's even thinking he can't tell Tomo now. It's just normal, saying what a phone call was about.

"Hey," he says when all customers are happy with drinks for the moment. "That call earlier? A friend of mine's going to drop by with another guy, to hang out for a bit."

"Cool," Tomo says. "Music buffs?"

"Hm, the other guy is pretty into it. Rap. My friend's just…" Jin grins. "He'll listen to pretty much anything, I think."

"He's coming to the right place then," Tomo grins back. He nods at the couple on the sofa and starts to put together refills for them. "What time do you want to go on? You'll want to wait till your friends are here."

"They said eight-thirty so… anytime after nine will be good," Jin says. "Maybe not too late. Between nine and ten." If Kame really hates it, they can leave when Emi-san comes to take over from him.

"Yeah, no problem," Tomo says, and pushes the drinks across for Jin to put on a tray. The schoolteacher likes his hot sake; his girlfriend prefers exotic cocktails.

They seem nice, but Jin's never talked to them. When he puts the drinks down on their table, they smile at him but the teacher doesn't interrupt some mournful tale about his school's Koushien chances, his girlfriend nodding along sympathetically and, Jin thinks, with about as much general interest in baseball as Jin has himself. He used to wish quite often that schools weren't so obsessed with it.

Hisato played for a while, but never well; and then he got too lazy. Taro-chan…

Jin called him on his birthday; that was the other thing last week. It was harder than talking to Hisato, and he didn't get lucky about Taro picking up the phone.

Still, his mother said nothing when he asked politely to speak to his brother and she didn't refuse, just passed him on, and they got three minutes. Jin started off with questions he'd prepared because he knows how his head gets under stress, and then Taro was telling him anything and everything about the last school year and thankfully almost forgot to ask questions of his own.

He found out that the soccer shoes he sent were the right size, and came at just the right time, too, when the old pair was both too torn _and_ too small.

And Taro misses him. Jin always tries not to wonder what they say about him, but he didn't expect that. It was hard to hear, but it also made him happy. Still does.

When he gets back to the bar, Tomo has that harassed look he gets half an hour before the music starts, where he always worries about the sky falling down or people tripping over their guitars. Jin takes the next tray off him, and Tomo says thanks like Jin rescued a kitten from a tree.

*~*~*

The first number is a bit of a snooze, a weepy ballad thing that would work better at midnight when it can make everybody maudlin. But then the student trio with the cool drummer mix it up a bit, just in time for the first real rush of customers, and Jin has to figure out people's orders over the beat before the room erupts into applause.

They keep the queue short between the two of them. Tomo still manages to chat with people in between; Jin responds to the odd comment but nobody holds it against him when he has to concentrate on adding things to tabs and how much the Diet Coke was again. It's fun, and he starts humming along to the two familiar tracks of the Lousy Trousers.

Kihara and her partner come to the bar to get some gin and tonics, but mostly to talk to him. Last week Jin helped them figure out the harmonies for some pop song that's not originally a duet, and they tell him they'll be singing it tonight for the first time. More reasons he's glad he didn't cancel. He's just caught a glance of Kihara's pink-and-white watch – thirty-five past – when he checks the door to see Kame arrive.

He's cute in a black beanie and huge sunglasses, a jacket with plaid fringes over his jeans, and he looks weirdly tiny. Jin has no idea if he's recognizable. But Jin is at the bar, so he's easy to see, and the smile on Kame's face is real and shy. Jin's stomach flips a bit because this is it; bar, music, client, right here. Then he waves, and his stomach flips more. He figures he'll be used to it by the time Kame and Tanaka have had their first drinks.

Tanaka has forgone any camouflage, his short bleached hair uncovered and some bling glinting here and there. He's wearing the same black jeans he wears to the club.

Jin goes over to show them to the table he kept clear for them.

"Hey," Kame says.

"Hey," Jin says, and adds, "Good evening," for Tanaka. He stops the automatic bow halfway, suddenly afraid people will notice and wonder. "Thanks for coming. Did you find it all right?"

"The cab driver did," Tanaka says with a grin. "You think I'd miss the chance to have some beer with the music?"

"We've got beer." Jin shows them their seats; good ones with a pretty decent view, given that they're late. "What would you like? We've got Kirin on draught, Yebisu in bottles."

"You work here?" Kame asks. He's sitting very still, like the seat is going to throw him off if he antagonizes it, but he seems okay, considering. The first half hour at the restaurant, he was tenser.

"Just today," Jin explains. "The waitress had a family emergency, so I'm filling in till ten." And if he'd known he was going to see Kame, he'd have picked out a nice shirt today, not the shapeless grey t-shirt he got in a sale. His hair doesn't even bear thinking about.

But then this isn't the club. That's the point, that's why he likes it here, and Kame agreed to meeting here so… this is what he gets. He can't have expected club-Jin.

Jin smiles nervously. "It's kind of busy right now, so I can't sit down, but I'll get you your drinks straight away."

Tanaka chooses the Kirin and Kame just goes along. Jin feels like he's balancing a whole tray of fancy cocktails on his way back to the bar, but when he gets there everything's still normal.

Only Kame is here now.

He smiles back in Kame's direction. Kame is still huddling in his jacket even though it's quite warm; Tanaka has already taken off his coat and is looking around, curious and not shy at all.

Jin lets Tomo handle the beers.

"Your friends?" Tomo asks with a nod.

Jin nods back, all cool, or so he hopes. "Yeah. I'll introduce you when you're not up to your elbows in work."

Tomo wipes his wet hands on a towel and surveys the empty glasses Jin has already collected back. "Or dishwater."

"Yep. I'll help you in a minute, okay?"

He gets the beers to his guests, which feels pretty weird when normally he sits right there and has Kame order things for him. But they take their glasses and it's just normal, like he's just some guy, in some bar.

"Thanks for the table, too," Kame says before Jin leaves again. "I hope you didn't have to fight too many people off." Jin blushes a little, and his hair fluffs annoyingly into his face.

For the first three songs, Jin is nervous that they'll be bad; boring or out of tune. But there's a decent soloist and then another three-guy formation comes on, and they're so much fun that Jin can see Tanaka bobbing along from here, and Kame is smiling too.

He's ditched the jacket at last and is wearing a loose-fitting black t-shirt with long sleeves. It looks nondescript and still like he raided his older brother's wardrobe.

Jin keeps an eye on him between distributing drinks and rinsing glasses for Tomo; because of the sunglasses, he can't really tell if Kame is doing the same, but it's okay.

He's even got to admit that bringing Tanaka along was a good idea. He's the attention-getter if anybody; Kame's almost invisible beside the bling, the bouncing, and the dayglo hair.

Still Jin's pulse jumps to a race when next time he turns back their way, the guy who sometimes attempts Dabo covers is homing in on Kame's table. He thinks he can see Kame stiffen, and he doesn't even know what to do if—

The Dabo guy grins widely at Tanaka and makes a weird hand sign, which Tanaka knows how to return. The deep bow that follows is pretty weird in context, Jin thinks, but at least he can breathe again. He sees Kame take a gulp from his beer, and finally heads back to the bar with his tray to have one, too.

Steady, he tells himself. Even if somebody recognizes Kame, it's not like Kame has never dealt with fans before, and Kame is competent, and he's got Tanaka for cover, and as long as Jin stays out of the way…

They'll be fine.

He does another round distributing drinks, and stops for a few words with the four Shinoharas who always come to cheer him on. Initially he couldn't understand what a mid-thirties married couple and their two early teenage daughters might see in him, but now they just banter easily. Jin is happy they like his music.

He's become good at telling when it's working and for whom it's working, too. When people no longer look at him but through him – look through tables or through their glasses or through walls at the thing that means something to them alone, and they can see it when he sings. He loves it when that happens.

Back at the bar again, he's reaching across for another sip from his bottle, when there's a smooth voice in his ear. "They keep you pretty busy."

He whips around, and Kame is smiling at him. Up close, the shades aren't really that dark.

"I thought I'd come keep you company. Tanaka-san has found a fan."

"I'll take the next round," says Tomo, who's taken in the situation with a glance. "You can stay here and pull beers." He gives Kame the standard 'hello-there-new-customer' bow. "Hi, I'm Yamashita Tomohisa, I'm in charge of this place."

Names. They never thought about names. Jin doesn't even know what he _wants_ Kame to say.

"Hi." Kame is bowing too. "Kamenashi Kazuya, pleased to meet you."

Right. Right, okay, 'Kame' would have been just as… people know that name, too, so… maybe it makes sense, but still Jin has no idea how Kame can be so relaxed about this. Look so relaxed, anyway.

Tomo squints at him with a little smile. "My girlfriend mentions that name sometimes. I believe I should be jealous of you."

Kame laughs. "I'm sorry. It's the camera shots from low angles, they make me look more impressive."

Tomo laughs, too. "I'll tell her that. It take it you're keeping a low profile?"

"The sunglasses gave it away, huh?" Jin manages.

"Yeah, I'm just here to chill," Kame says. "I had a free night, and Jin told me this is a nice place." He looks around. "He was right."

"Thanks," Tomo says, following his look, which has come to rest briefly on Tanaka, who's found a second disciple and is signing a coaster. "He an actor, too?"

"No," Kame says, "he's in the music industry. But also off-duty right now." He smiles. "He just can't ever let go."

"Well, I hope he doesn't find us too painful," Tomo says, and loads up his tray. "Gotta go, thirsty customers to supply. I hope you enjoy the evening! Keep pulling those beers, Jin."

Jin returns his smile, and stares after him for a moment.

"He seems like nice guy," Kame says.

"He is." Jin's still taking it all in, how normal Kame is here. With Tomo gone and just the two of them, Jin can see his shoulders ease just so, his smile turn shy in that way Jin recognizes. "But… just in general…" It makes him feel deeply disloyal to Tomo to bring this up right now, but he also feels he has to. "…is it a good idea to give out your name just like that?"

Kame shrugs slowly and leans his elbows on the bar. "I don't like making something up, to be honest. And if I do get recognized, it'll look pretty shady if I spent the last hour claiming to be my insurance salesman."

True enough, but it kind of sucks, and maybe… "It was stupid of me to ask you to come, wasn't it?"

"It wasn't." Kame shakes his head energetically. "This really is a nice place. And I could have said no if I wanted to. And if anyone asks, hey. Actors can have cool friends."

Jin grins down at the damp counter. It's true. Not that he's cool; that Kame can make his own decisions. Jin doesn't need to make himself crazy on his behalf.

For a moment they are silent, just looking around.

"Beer," Kame says to him then with a smile. "Don't want to get you in trouble."

Jin obediently starts filling glasses. "So how was Hokkaido?" He has to raise his voice over the guy who has just started an enthusiastic cover of an X-Japan song.

" _Cold_ ," Kame says at the same volume. "Really cold. Some days we filmed outside for twelve hours. You'd pour yourself some hot tea and by the time you lifted it to your mouth, it was lukewarm. The best parts were when we had to do battle in full samurai uniform, because we could wear thermal underwear underneath that."

Jin shudders in sympathy. Then he asks, "What?" because Kame is smiling in a funny way.

"Nothing."

" _What_?"

Kame hesitates, then leans in. Not so they touch, they would never touch. But Kame doesn't have to shout anymore. "I missed you," he says. "It wouldn't have been so cold snuggling up to you."

When he stands back, he looks a bit embarrassed, but Jin's just thinking of Kame alone in some cold Hokkaido bed, and he's almost shivering in sympathy.

He's careful not to lean in too much, but he smiles, and is pretty sure Kame can tell he'd have been happy to warm him up.

He's forgotten the beers again. He fills up the three he's got in progress before Kame asks, "So what have you been up to?"

Suddenly he realizes that this is much nicer, too. He's not stuck with small talk about the gym or the subway. So he tells Kame he spent time practicing, and that last week they had a bigger party because the Open Mic night turned a year old, and they had chocolate cake.

Tomo comes back for another load but doesn't comment, not even on the cake. Kame hardly tenses up this time, either. Jin asks him about a refill and Kame glances at the shelves behind the bar, but decides to stick with beer.

"You can have what you like, it's on me," Jin says.

Kame mulls that over, though he tries to disguise it by checking out the changeover on stage.

"Thanks. They do say knowing the guy behind the bar is a perk," he says then with a little grin. He has the beer anyway.

It feels pretty clever, and is probably really not. But Kame gets a giggly look sometimes, like he's ever so pleased with the two of them too, standing here and listening to music. Jin learns that Kame will really listen to anything, and cares about stuff like where people can possibly practice percussion and what colour someone's guitar is. Like it's totally normal, Kame in bug-eye sunglasses and flabby t-shirts, watching Jin pull beers.

When Tomo comes back the next time, he's got a purposeful look on his face. "Hey, you're on soon. Are you getting ready?"

"Um, yeah," Jin says. He notes that Kame looks interested-but-trying-not-to-show-it. "Will you be okay here?"

"Sure, first rush is done."

"My guitar's in the office," Jin says to Kame, and now he feels weird after all, but Kame's pushing off the bar.

"Great. I'll be with that rapper guy over there." He takes his beer and he and Tomo nod at each other.

Jin lets himself be shooed into the office by Tomo. Ten minutes is just long enough to grab his stuff, and get out the lyrics of the English song for a quick run over the line that can still trip him up sometimes.

Between working and worrying about Kame's cover, he never had time to get nervous about— he stops his thoughts short of detail. About this; and he hopes to keep it that way for the next fifteen minutes. He closes his eyes and huffs out a deep breath before heading out of the door with his guitar.

### *~*~*

That went pretty well.

Kame's not sure what it really compares to, but as he walks around tables to get back to his seat, he feels like after he's watched his own performance and didn't find fault, or when he's remembered Mother's Day in time to get a decent present.

Tanaka's two fans see him approach and make their excuses; not really necessary, but Kame considers it a good sign, a sign that they'll be left in peace if they want to be private people on a fun night out.

He slides back in his seat and meets Tanaka's grin.

"He's coming up now," Kame explains.

"Yeah, I thought so," Tanaka nods. "Good for him."

The woman on stage, a tiny fluffy blur of pink and white on stiletto heels, is starting her second song. When Kame had the mind to listen, he liked what he heard so far. He likes the enthusiasm in it, even from the ones who aren't so good.

And Tanaka is still watching him.

He hasn't asked a funny question since Kame called him up, but the funny and the questions are in the air whenever it goes quiet between them. "Thanks very much for coming along," Kame says. "It really helps."

Tanaka gestures generously. "Hey, it's no hardship. These guys are pretty decent. And you've been up there in the cold for two lonely weeks…"

Kame rolls his eyes a bit. It sounded different in his head when he said something very similar just five minutes ago.

"How are you holding up?" Tanaka says. "This is pretty new."

Kame breathes deeply but, he hopes, undramatically. "I think it's okay. It's kind of… laid-back here." He's not noticing many curious stares in any case.

"Shibuya it ain't," Tanaka agrees comfortably as the singer holds her last high note, and then they clap along with the rest. "Though she's dressed like she wishes it was."

She walks to the steps at the side of the stage and Jin appears at the bottom, in faded blue and grey. They high-five each other while she's still at eye level with him up there, and Kame catches a glimpse of Jin's grin for her before he leaves the steps to her and turns to take one large stride straight up onto the stage. Kame can't tell if the applause is so loud because of who's leaving, or of who's just come, or whether he just didn't pay attention to it before.

Okay, the squealing of Jin's name from the tables to his right is definitely new, and he doesn't _think_ he's seen those two little girls push forward to throw torn-up beermat confetti at anybody else before. But he could be wrong. Jin is laughing while he tunes up quickly, and then he gives them a little wave.

A guy behind Kame shouts some English words, and a couple of others repeat them, and Jin nods.

He adjusts the height of the mic and leans into it a bit.

"Hi," he says, "I'm Jin. And this is…"

Kame doesn't understand the rest, it's English again. There's more satisfied cheering, though. Beside him, Tanaka makes an intrigued sound, but Kame has no time to ask because the music starts, Jin picking out some low rhythm on his guitar, and the drums and the keyboard from the band joining in, and then Jin is singing.

It's all English. Kame doesn't understand a word. But he doesn't have to, it doesn't matter. The song is raw and intense, a rock number that sometimes comes close to shouting, and Jin sounds perfect whether he goes loud and rough or makes the foreign words sneak under your skin; and he looks amazing up there caring about nothing but the music and ignoring Kame completely, and like he knows every note to the bone.

The audience sings along with the somewhat shouted chorus. Too foreign for Kame to join in, but he smiles, finds himself tapping along and his fingers drumming on the beer glass. A glance at the fingers dancing on the table next to him tells him Tanaka is enjoying it too.

The applause is definitely noisy when Jin's done. Kame is sure of that. In fact, it's so loud and long that Tanaka has to lean in closely to say to him, "That was good."

"I thought so too," he shouts back.

"He's being harsh on his voice with all that shouting, it's not made for that. I'd like to hear what he does with something gentler." As the sound level goes back to normal, Tanaka can stop the shouting too. "But I liked it."

"Do you know what it was? I didn't catch anything."

On the stage, Jin is having a quick consultation with the band.

"Some Bon Jovi thing. Ancient American rock, from the eighties," Tanaka explains. "Didn't catch the title, either."

They shut up because Jin's turned back to the audience. He looks hot up there, and once or twice tries to push his hair out of his face while he announces the next song. English, again.

"Did he say 'I know'?" Kame asks Tanaka.

Tanaka shrugs. "Think so. I don't know it."

Jin starts to play.

Despite the title it's in Japanese this time. Tanaka is getting his gentler song.

Kame has never heard it before. Nobody else is singing along, but the audience know this one, Kame can feel it. They aren't chatting, only a few are drinking, and there's recognition in the smiles and Jin has the confidence again, all alone up there on stage.

His eyes close on the second verse. It's slow and beautiful, just Jin's voice and the guitar, and then percussion on the chorus, Jin's voice picking up with a restrained sort of passion.

It's on the last note that Kame notices just how quiet it got, and that he was holding his breath for the last soft words.

The little girls go wild but there are guys cheering too. It wasn't like a love song. Or maybe it is, maybe the love was complicated. Jin's smile is wide and deep, and Kame finds it strange and endearing how the shyness comes back into his posture. Jin claps for the band, and there's an entirely unfitting celebratory drum roll that makes everyone burst into laughter.

Jin jumps off the stage, Yamashita-san thumping his shoulder and shoving beer at him, to drink not to serve, and some older guy in a weird t-shirt says something that makes Jin laugh.

Kame wonders who it is, how they know each other; he'd like to go up there too, but it would be different, and he knows better.

It takes a while and some more congratulations, and the next singer is already on the stage by the time Jin looks his way. Kame can see his sudden hesitation from here.

He's not sure what to do; raising his glass would be rather corny. He risks lifting the sunglasses for just a moment and shoots Jin a smile. It probably looks very strange.

But Jin seems pleased when he ducks his head, and then he waves with both hands at the bar. Got it. More work, not avoidance. Kame settles back and has a gulp of his beer.

"He's good," Tanaka says, quietly enough so it's not rude to the current balladeer. "I can see why he didn't want to cancel on this thing." He gives the stage another look, and nods.

Kame squashes the moment of guilt, which is irrational even by his standards. "Yes, I'm glad he didn't. I liked it, too. But you know me and music…"

"Well, here's your chance to get yourself some education," Tanaka says. "The kid has taste."

Kame doesn't rise to the bait, and doesn't take issue with Tanaka's phrasing. Jin is smiling more than before, talking to an old man in a rumpled suit who has settled on the other side of the bar, dropping the dishtowel to clap when the song ends.

Kame eyes Tanaka's mostly empty glass and then downs the rest of his own beer. "Are you sticking with that?" he asks. Tanaka just smirks.

Jin sees him coming this time.

"Can I get two more, please," Kame says, smiling secretly as he's putting his elbows back on the bar.

"Sure," Jin says, all light and happy bartender. "Thanks for saving us a trip."

"Figured you guys are busy enough." Kame nods at the old guy, who doesn't even blink at his camouflage.

Jin is biting his lip as he starts their drafts.

"I really liked your songs," Kame says. "That was really good."

The smile is getting the better of Jin, even though he makes a dorky effort at keeping a straight face. "Thanks," he says in the end. "I'm glad you're not bored."

" _Bored_?" the old guy says, in great disbelief. "You should be glad they let you off the stage." He turns to Kame with a wise expression. "He's one of our stars, you know."

Kame nods solemnly.

Jin hands them their beers, and the verdict's out on whether he's more grinning or blushing.

*~*~*

Jin joins them after a girl has taken over waiting the tables. He pulls up a chair, not quite in a circle. The easy way he flops down almost takes Kame by surprise. "Hey," he smiles. Then he gives Tanaka a more self-conscious nod.

"Is the waitress back?" Kame asks.

"No, that's Emi-san, she's Tomo's girlfriend. She helps out sometimes, too." The girl is looking their way when Kame turns his head. Jin waves with his glass.

"Nice little place," Tanaka says. "And pretty decent music despite all the singing."

It goes a little quiet, just the song in the background, Jin smiling at his beer; wondering. Kame expected there'd be a moment like this, where they figure out how Tanaka fits into all this and acknowledge what he's doing here.

"I'm glad you're not too horrified," Jin says in the end.

"I'm having fun," Tanaka says. "It's a good atmosphere. Friendly."

"Yeah," Jin grins. "They started out with just one real band but it's much more fun now that more of them come, they'll play along to different things. You should wait till Tomo gets up there, he does one that gets everybody going."

Kame looks at the mostly abandoned instruments; the girl singing now is just playing her own guitar. "Are you in one of the bands? Or do you meet up to practice?"

"Not… really," Jin shrugs. "We just know each other from here. We pick stuff up from each other."

Kame blinks and tries to imagine performing live with co-stars who don't know their lines.

"Why?" Jin asks.

"Nothing, just… When they play with you, how do you know if they'll do it right?"

At first Jin seems to think; then he breaks into a grin Kame really didn't expect. "I guess… we figure it out as we go along?"

Kame gives Tanaka a quick glance. "Is it a weird question?"

"No," Jin concedes, but he's still grinning. "I guess it's just kind of relaxed."

"Relaxed is good," Kame agrees, and smiles at Jin, except now Jin is laughing.

"Unless you're competing for the highest foam block tower, right?"

What? The only time he's had anything to do with foam blocks in the last fifteen years was… a month ago, shooting for some promotional thing.

"Sorry," Jin says. "I saw you on TV last week, with your samurai cast."

"Doing what?" Tanaka wants to know. "Samurai, foam…" His head sways in dramatic confusion.

"I was doing some early promotion for the movie, there was a dexterity contest against the team from TBS's Friday drama," Kame summarizes, eyeing Jin carefully. "We won."

"I think you scared that poor kid."

Kame knows whom Jin means right away. Kasai-kun, sixteen or so, plays the daimyou's page and is prone to wide-eyed standing in the wrong spot when you're blind handling very light, bulky blocks. "Well, he was just… I was just… we had to be a bit more organized if we wanted to win."

"Clearly," Jin says. Maybe it's the unfamiliar setting, but his smile looks different from ever before.

Tanaka is watching Jin with a hard-to-read expression, only Jin doesn't notice, letting Kame off the hook to watch the singer again.

"Those TV games," Tanaka says tragically. "Nobody takes them seriously."

At first Kame wants to protest, but then he just holds up his beer in defeat. Okay, so he was a little bossy. At least they got the highest tower and the kid got a laptop out of it; and he could even say that and Jin would be fine, Jin would just laugh at him, the nice way. So, whatever. Kame slides deeper into the seat and applauds the singer, who has just finished. Tanaka can have his smirk.

The next guy who comes on is wearing a hoodie. The guy from before, with the sign language, and from Tanaka's raised interest Kame's got some idea what's coming. Turns out to be right.

Kame doesn't know much about rap, despite Tanaka's best efforts. He doesn't mind it; it just all sounds the same. So he can't tell if the singer is any good, but going by Tanaka's expression and the way he and Jin are tapping their feet, he's at least not offending the connoisseurs.

Kame just relaxes and watches. Not the singer, but Jin. The shades come in useful. Jin's pushed his chair back for a better view of the stage, and Kame gets to see his profile. It feels weird, though not unpleasant, to be together with Jin and not have Jin completely focused on him. Nice that that can work.

Nice, too, to see Jin and know that these are the clothes he really likes to wear, and this is the way he does his hair when he's not pleasing anybody but himself. It's different, just like the way he moves is different even from the time they were all boozy and giggly together. Bigger movements, more joy. Maybe it's the people here, and how he knows them.

Kame won't feel left out.

He claps obediently when everybody else does and he realizes the first song is over. No, strike that, there's just one in this set and the guy is moonwalking his way off the stage to rhythmic clapping that says the crowd expected no less.

"Be right back," Tanaka says, pushing his chair back. "Gotta say some nice words to a brother."

Jin turns back to Kame. "Brotherhood of rap, huh?" he says.

"Maybe it's a secret underground movement," Kame suggests. "Like those guys in that film, with the Grail."

"Um," Jin says, and shrugs. "Sorry…"

Kame laughs. "Maybe I'll get the DVD for our next pizza and beer evening."

"Beer delivery, beer! Get your fresh beer heeere!" Yamashita-san is approaching with a tray, followed by the woman called Emi-san. Of course. "How are you guys doing?" Yamashita asks, while Emi-san takes a beer off the tray and puts it in front of Kame. "Music acceptable? One of you run off already?"

"He's gone to communicate with his brother in rap," Jin says, while Kame says his thanks for the beer and remembers to smile at her. "He'll be back. Hi Emi-san."

"Hi!" Emi-san sounds nervous. She puts a beer in front of Jin, too.

"This is my girlfriend Arakawa Emi," Yamashita says to Kame. "She only throws her panties at _me_ , so you're quite safe, but she really wanted to say hi to you."

Emi digs her elbow into his ribs and he hops two feet away with a pained face.

"I stopped with the panties, he doesn't look good in them." Then she gives a short, entirely more nervous bow towards Kame and says, "It's an honour to meet you. I really like your work."

"Hi, Emi-san," Kame says. "Nice to meet you."

For a moment she gets that deep flustered grin they often get before they squeal. But she doesn't. "I'm looking forward to your movie," she says, and bows again, like she's just a nice waitress. "I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening."

"Thank you. It's been great so far. Thank you for the beers."

"Why do I carry the heavy stuff and she gets all the credit?" Yamashita asks Jin in a fake whisper as Emi retreats.

Jin grabs his new beer. "Cause she's prettier than you."

Yamashita's eyes go even rounder and he clasps a hand over his heart. "She was lying about the panties, man, I _so_ look good."

Jin snorts in surprise, and Yamashita flashes him a grin. He's certainly attractive, of a more solid build than either of them, with smooth features and those noticeable eyes.

But Kame is not going to have opinions on the relative attractiveness of Jin's friends. That's not why he's here.

"Mind if I join you guys for my break?" Yamashita asks, and Kame pretends not to see the way Jin tries to check with _him_ , just keeps his eyes firmly on Yamashita.

"You're very welcome," he says, and Jin moves his chair towards Kame to make room for the stool Yamashita is pulling up from another table.

"Your girlfriend is very nice," Kame says, knowing full well it will get back to her.

"Thanks," Yamashita replies, with a more serious sort of smile, and checks out the bar where Emi is managing to do three things at once. "I can really depend on her too."

"Are you the manager of this place?"

Yamashita laughs. "I wish."

"Might as well be, though," Jin throws in. "Except they'd have to pay you properly."

Yamashita pouts, which looks funny and makes his eyes even bigger, but then puts the work woes aside and slumps back in his chair. "So how did you like his stuff?" he asks Kame, grinning when Jin hides his face in his hands.

Kame repeats his assessment from earlier, but Jin quickly starts teasing Yamashita about the lyrics of a song and making couples hold hands in the dark. "You'll have to tell him what you think of it when he's done," he says mischievously to Kame. "If it's romantic enough."

Kame promises to do so, while Yamashita kicks Jin's chair leg and says, "I hate you."

Jin shoots Kame a smile, very warm and without flirtation. Kame is still fascinated by the way he's sitting there, easy, taking up space in his everyday clothes and carelessly tapping along with the enka-type thing a middle-aged man is singing.

Kame is in a public bar, having drinks with his escort's friends.

He keeps on his polite listening smile and waits for the teetering moment to pass. Nothing different from five minutes ago. All is going well. Yamashita is nice. There is music.

Yamashita laughs about Jin's pronunciation of some weird English word and says he'll pass that on to his brother.

His escort and his escort's friends and their little brothers. Kame has a deep drink, and when Yamashita smiles his way, Kame asks him if he's from the neighbourhood or if he only comes here to work.

"Sorry," Jin says a moment later. "I gotta… you know."

"Five minutes or we'll send a search party," Yamashita promises.

"Search party?" Kame asks as Jin heads for the bathroom.

Yamashita grins. "The men's toilets. Jin says they're creepy. And possibly haunted."

"I… see."

"They're fine, I swear!" Yamashita laughs. "I bet you don't come to dives like this a lot, though."

"I doesn't seem like a dive to me," Kame says. The people are much too nice for that. It looks like the sort of place Kame would like to go more if he could. "I don't know what Jin told you but I'm not entirely spoiled."

"He hasn't told me much, actually. Just, friend called, will be coming by with other guy, the end. How did you guys meet, anyway?"

Oh. Well, that… that is something Kame could have anticipated. He has no idea why he didn't, when he spent all that time last time… only he didn't anticipate meeting anybody from the industry here, or the press. He hadn't thought he'd talk to anyone who mattered.

And the TV set story won't work, he realizes with horror, and he doesn't know if he'll fit into whatever Jin's told them about his work as a waiter. Too risky.

"We met through a mutual friend. At a party, nothing special." He remembers Tanaka's teasing, grabs it like lifeline. "We got talking about music, he knows more than I do. Thought he could perform a public service by educating me. He was nice."

"Yeah, he is." Yamashita sneaks a slow glance over his shoulder, where Jin is still not reappearing. Then he contemplates his beer with a strange, fond little smile. "Once he stops being so shy."

Shy. Yes. That's what Jin was, that time before the catastrophic blow job. He knows that now. "I… yeah."

"Not that I mean he's not nice then," Yamashita says quickly. "Just, when a guy appears in your bar and looks like that and just _sits_ there and doesn't say a word… you think he's maybe too cool for mortals. Because you don't know."

"Is that how you met?"

"Yeah. He came here, just to hang out at first. I'm behind the bar, so… you chat, right? But Jin…" Yamashita shakes his head a tiny bit. "It was easier after he'd seen me on stage. He was interested in that. Still sounded like he was asking a girl on a date for the first time, but he really likes this stuff." He's smiling again, like people do at good memories.

Kame imagines Jin sitting alone at the bar, too nervous to talk to anybody, his whole life secret. Still secret.

He ought to leave Jin alone. Here, at any rate. He's only interfering, complicating things that shouldn't be complicated.

"What sort of music do you like to play?" he asks Yamashita, because there's a break in the music and he can't just clam up, he's grown-up enough that he knows how to keep a conversation going with normal people.

"Rock or pop, mostly," Yamashita says. He lifts his hand in a little wave, and when Kame turns his head, he sees Jin approaching their table again. "Southern All Stars, B'z, things like that. – Hey, you survived."

"Frankie was doing his warm-up in there," Jin says. "Ghosts all ran away."

Yamashita grins knowingly.

Uncomplicated. Kame wishes he didn't have to say anything, almost wishes he weren't here.

"I just told Yamashita-san about the party where we met," he says, and he does manage to sound light-hearted, "and he told me about you when you started coming here."

The smallest pause; then they each get a share of Jin's amused and slightly horrified look. "Baby pictures next, huh? Can we talk about music instead? Or beer? Or… Tanaka-san? What's happened to him?"

That's a good question, but thankfully Tanaka isn't easy to lose. With minimal effort they spot him talking to two elderly ladies in a corner at the back, with his new rapper friend still in attendance.

Yamashita laughs. "Oh, rapper mama-san will be chewing his ear off about the violent lyrics and the strange words."

Tanaka seems to be holding his own, though, and his rhinestones seem to have convinced the ladies that he is a man of sensitivity.

Yamashita stands, excusing himself. "If I don't get back to the bar, Emi-chan is going to do unspeakable things to me." He smiles at Kame and Jin. "Have fun." And to Jin specifically, "And _no heckling_."

Jin looks unimpressed. "We'll see, won't we?"

They watch him go, and he's gotten smacked by a dishtowel and taken the bar back over before Jin says, "Sorry for leaving you. Did everything go okay?"

Kame nods obligingly. The stuff that Jin means went okay. "I told him we met at the house of some unspecified mutual friend," he says, for completeness' sake. "Your friend is very nice. Everything went fine." He almost asks if he should leave.

Jin stretches out his legs in front of him and smiles happily. "Good. I'm glad."

*~*~*

There is no heckling at all when Yamashita hops onto the stage with his own guitar, just very loud cheering, which Kame attributes to a combination of how popular he is and rising booze level. A full band supports him for a rockish number that is an excellent bar song and gets people on their feet.

Tanaka makes his way back through the bouncy crowd, and Kame thinks he's singing the chorus under the cover of the collective backing vocals. At least it's not a wasted night for Tanaka.

They don't say anything when he sits back down because Jin doesn't talk over Yamashita's song. But Tanaka gives him an unsubtle wink.

Two chords into the next song, Jin whoops. It turns out to be a slower, more romantic one, and there are some giggles as Emi-san dims the lights and the first lighters come out. Kame feels silly with his sunglasses in the dark, but they help. He doesn't want to look at Jin and think thoughts he's better off without while people are swaying to a love song and Jin is listening to his friend.

The applause at the end is deafening, and when it won't stop, Yamashita threatens them all with cutting off their drinks.

"I told him they'd like it," Jin says when it's possible to hear each other again. "But would he believe me?" He's beaming, waving widely over the heads of some other people.

They have another round that goes down rather faster than the previous one. Every so often, somebody stops by to exchange a few words and a laugh with Jin, and leaves again. Jin and Tanaka both have opinions on the night's singers and their songs, and they're talking like they never knew each other as anything but two guys in a bar.

It's an even drunker set of songs later, after midnight, that Tanaka starts checking his watch, makes a show of rolling tired shoulders. "So, you guys…"

"You want to go?" Kame asks. It's not a problem, there are always more cabs. The sinking feeling he has is unwarranted.

"Yeah," Tanaka shrugs. "You guys will be all right?" He sounds pointedly light, and Kame leaves the reply to Jin.

"I think we're good," Jin says easily. "Kame?"

"Sure," Kame nods. It's weird when everyone else is more competent than he.

Tanaka's gaze rests on Jin for a moment, but Jin just smiles and shoots Kame a look. "I'll make sure he doesn't get lost in the wilderness," he promises in a stage-whisper.

"I'll hold you to that," Tanaka says, with one of his weird smiles at Kame.

"Actually, how about we get a move on, too?" Jin is leaning towards Kame and instantly has his attention. "It's just going to get louder from here, not much chance to talk."

"If you don't mind," Kame says. He doesn't want to cut Jin's night here short. But it'll look better, he's aware of that, if the three of them leave together. Look less… something.

"I don't mind at all," Jin says, so readily Kame has no choice but believe him. "And I'm sure it's better for our stealth thingie too." He does a funny thing with his eyebrows.

So they all get up and wind their way through the crowd, Jin in the lead, waving at people here and there, stopping at the bar with his hands in his back pockets to say goodbye to Yamashita and his girlfriend. Yamashita gets Jin's guitar and coat from the office and they are sent off with advice to not get too drunk in Roppongi, where they are apparently going. Like friends who meet in bars to drink together do.

Then they're outside. The sudden quiet when the door falls closed feels thick and cushioning. Kame's ears are ringing a little bit.

Tanaka takes a deep breath. His bright hair looks funny over a rather respectable coat. "So, I'll call myself a cab?"

"There's a stand down there," Jin indicates with a jerky arm. "It's not far, but we're going the other direction. If you go to the main street, you'll flag one down easy, too."

"I'll do that then," Tanaka says, with a wink that looks devilish when he puts his collar up like that. "You guys have a good night. Don't take candy from strangers."

The cold air is wonderful and fresh. Kame can smell the bar smoke when he moves, from his clothes and his hair, and he pictures them walking around like anime characters in their own clouds of pollution. He waves it off when Jin asks why he's laughing.

Jin sticks his hands in his coat pockets and slings his guitar on his back. "It's not far," he promises once they're off the bar's parking lot. "Ten minutes, if you walk like it's cold."

"Good thing it's January."

"Man, it was freezing this afternoon when I got here," Jin moans into his scarf, and then goes, "Um."

"Um, what?"

"Um. Speaking as someone who hasn't had swordfights in Hokkaido recently."

Kame laughs again. "Yeah, okay, this is balmy."

The streets aren't entirely quiet, but nobody gives them a second glance. Public transport has stopped running, of course. The occasional cab passes by. Few cars.

"This is still the busy part, it gets quieter on the backstreets," Jin explains. "It's nicer to walk with somebody." Kame catches his sneaky look under a streetlight.

He's glad he went. Glad he got to see Jin like this. Okay, maybe minus the huddling. Jin's nose is red from the cold, and there is a hoodie peeking out between the dark coat and the cashmere scarf. Nice to know they can warm up soon. Together.

He's still prickling with the thought when it occurs to him that he never thought to bring clothes. Uncertainty? Stupidity? He doesn't know why he wouldn't at least bring— "Oh."

"Yeeeees?"

Kame sighs. "I'm an idiot. I didn't bring a toothbrush."

"Whoops," Jin grins. "There's a nice conbini near where I live, we can buy one. I stop there anyway when I'm hungry after the Open Mic."

"Now that you mention it, something to eat might be good, too," Kame considers.

"They have… the normal stuff, you know. But at least they keep it nice and hot, and I never got food poisoning yet." Jin seems bouncy at the prospect. "I usually have their nikuman."

Kame envisages delicious hot meat steam rising from a bun. Suddenly he is very hungry.

Jin slows, thinks for a moment, and makes them cross to the darker side of the street, where they continue walking in the same direction.

"It's on this side?"

"No, it's a bit away yet. Just…" Jin throws a look to the opposite sidewalk and about ten meters ahead Kame notices a house set back a little, with blackened, boarded-up windows, dark even at night.

"Squatters?" he guesses. "Don't they just want to be left in peace?"

"Not… real squatters." Jin is pulling his head lower into the scarf. "There was a fire a year ago, killed a family. They keep trying to renovate, but the ghosts frighten the workers away."

"Oh," Kame says. "I see." He's sad for the family, and it's no surprise this would become a story keeping kids up at night. Kids and… "Have they bothered you?"

"No," Jin says. "Not yet. But… you know. Though normally I even walk there sometimes, it's the side with the lights so… it's complicated. But with two of us I thought this is okay."

Kame nods before he's even fully disentangled that. Whatever Jin wants is fine. Even if it's a bit funny how he keeps throwing furtive glances across the street, the closer they come to the charred dark emptiness.

Kame halts just opposite. "Did you feel that?"

Jin stops dead. His look darts between Kame and the house. "What?"

"Cooooold," Kame intones in deep ghostly mourning.

The next moment Jin has grabbed him by his coat sleeve and is dragging him along the street; they nearly trip over themselves when he tries to get between Kame and the house. "Can you run? We'll be fine at the end of the street."

"Whoo-ooo-oooh," Kame barely manages between running and laughing. "Jin!"

"What?" Jin isn't slowing down.

"Whoo-ooo-oooh," Kame repeats more pointedly, and this time it registers. "Whoo-ooo- _ow_!"

Jin's punched his arm as he let go. "You're an asshole." But he's laughing, too. "That was mean."

"I know. I'm sorry." Kame can't quite manage contrite while he's still cracking up. "I couldn't resist."

Thankfully Jin seems to concede that. "Just don't expect me to rescue you next time," he grins. "That ship has sailed."

Oh. "Really?"

Jin purses his lips at him, looks him up and down critically. "Probably. You might get rescue credits back for good behaviour."

Kame is surprised how determined he suddenly is to do just that. "May I buy your nikuman for you?"

Jin snorts indulgently. "Rich guys. Always think they can buy themselves out of stuff. Rescue credits can't be bought," he lectures. "You just have to be nice to me, I guess."

"Okay," Kame says, feeling motivated. He can do that. He can be very nice to Jin, and he's got some ideas for how, too, ideas that get him a little excited when he imagines how Jin will respond. He's looking forward to it.

They walk companionably for a while, and then Jin crosses over the street again. "That's the place."

He's pointing to a little corner of warm brightness and colour, just a block away. A minute later they are there. Kame glances inside, and it's still small, intimate, with narrow-spaced shelves.

"Would you mind if I wait outside?" he says. He's taken quite a few risks tonight, and all of a sudden, he feels like buying toothbrushes with Jin in a tiny conbini might be pushing his luck.

Jin seems to get it; looks almost like he's pitying Kame and the weird limits he comes up against. "No problem. Any particular kind of toothbrush? Do you have a favourite colour?"

Kame laughs. "Medium, no preference. Knock yourself out."

"And nikuman, yes?"

"And nikuman. Let me give you—"

Jin is gone, the door of the shop opening and closing with a soft electronic chime.

Kame pulls his head in low and watches through the window as Jin disappears in an aisle for half a minute. He comes back out with a toothbrush – Kame can't make out the colour. He puts it down by the checkout and exchanges some words with the middle-aged woman behind it. They both laugh, and then Jin points at the hot racks, gestures 'two'. Her eyebrows go up and she gestures at his stomach, and there's more laughing.

Jin's in such a good mood. The music, the people… it's like he's a different person around them. Maybe this is who he could have been if he'd been luckier with his parents. Or maybe it's simply who he is underneath, when he doesn't have to be polite and professional.

Jin comes out, holding a plastic box with nikuman and some chopsticks out to Kame. "They had a special offer on Hello Kitty toothbrushes, so I saved you some money," he says. "It's in my bag."

"Thanks," Kame says, taking the food. Jin is such a bad liar. "I'll have to teach you how to say stuff like that with a straight face some time."

"Damn," Jin says peacefully. He lifts up the bun with his hands and bites a bit off. "What do you think?" he says as soon as he's swallowed it.

Kame is still separating his first piece from the bun with his chopsticks. Jin's way is better, he decides, and gives it a try. Even the heat feels good in his hands.

"Delicious," he announces, and for a moment he feels like he's on some food variety show.

But Jin takes it at face value, which is good because that's how he meant it. They walk, and eat, and Kame has just finished his bun and wrapped up the trash in the paper bag when he realizes that the place looks familiar.

He knows that bus stop.

He gets past the hitch in his walk, disguises it as making sure his trash is wrapped tightly.

He came from the other side, that time, but the pruned tree right next to it looks familiar, and the two yellow-painted houses behind, the way his headlights swept over them when he stopped to let Jin out.

He says nothing; hopes fervently that Jin won't notice, won't think about it. He wishes he hadn't eaten.

It hasn't been long. Less than three months ago. Jin was so scared he could barely move. How come Kame is here? He just spent a night with Jin's friends, is on his way to Jin's apartment, and Jin is walking next to him licking nikuman off his fingers and saying something about the autumn special they had with pumpkin in it and calories and performing…

He's glad the only way he scares Jin now is by making ghost noises at him, but he wishes he hadn't done that, either.

He barely noticed they turned off, that bus stop where Kame stopped the car looming behind them now. They're walking down a short street; there's another conbini and an apartment complex, and some single houses and then an archway and Jin turns into it.

"You live here?"

Kame hasn't managed to keep the shock out of his voice. Jin gives him a puzzled look. "Yeah. Why?"

"Uh," Kame says cleverly. "No, I just…" _I can't believe you let me take you within sight of where you live._ "Sorry, I didn't realize we had already walked so long."

Jin laughs. "I told you it's not far!" He is digging through his coat pockets for the key, and then holds the door open for Kame. "After you," he whispers.

Kame steps into a different sort of gloom, until Jin remembers Kame doesn't know where the light switch is. They both blink when the hall goes bright.

It's a nice building, clean and new, and only six floors. Kame guesses it's mostly for couples or single people; at least you'd have a hard time fitting any kids in the elevator with them and the guitar.

"I'm all the way up," Jin says when the doors are closed and he pushes the button. He's bouncing on his feet, like he enjoys being secret in an elevator together.

With his fluffed up hair and frozen nose it's hard not to kiss him right here. Maybe Kame can think about the bus stop tomorrow, maybe it's fairer not to make Jin wonder about Kame's mood.

"Do you like your neighbours?" he asks in the lowered voice of a well-mannered nightly guest.

"Hmm, I don't see much of them," Jin muses. "They're nice when I do, though. Polite. Always really smartly dressed."

There is a weird shadow on the floor when they get off, but it turns out to be a large plant and mostly harmless. "My fingers are cold," Jin whispers while he's fumbling with the door, and Kame gets that strange sneaky feeling of going home with someone, which he doesn't even really _know_ , only it feels nice.

He tries to have no guesses or expectations when Jin opens the door for him; something about Jin says he might be doing the same.

Then it's basically a room. Very neat and tidy, with perfectly fitting furniture, and very white. No clutter. It takes Kame a moment to find the stack of CDs in the shelf, a used plate on the white coffee table, a small row of books with library stickers on the back. A small shoe rack holds Jin's club shoes and a pair of sneakers so worn there's stuff peeling off at the sides.

"It's really small," Jin says; he only starts unwrapping now. "But it's just me, so it's enough."

"It's nice. It's really neat."

Jin takes Kame's coat. The smell of smoke is unmistakable in Jin's tiny hallway, in the warmer apartment. The much warmer apartment.

"Not really, I just…" Jin breaks off when his eyes fall on the coffee table. "Oh, crap. Um."

Kame figures out he means the plate with crumbs and an outrageous used coffee mug. He can't help a grin even as Jin is bustling over to the kitchen unit, saying, "I didn't really expect to have anyone over, or I would have…"

At least Jin doesn't start to clean, just puts the stuff tidily in the sink.

"Thank you," Kame says profoundly. "I just can't stand crumbs. People eating _lunch_. How dreadful."

"Oh, shut up," Jin says with a smile. "Do you want a drink?"

They both have some water and sit down on the couch, which isn't as catalogue-new as it seemed at first. The pale blue fabric shows faintly where someone's sat a lot, and one of the cushions is in unmatching beige.

Between Kame's furtive looking around and Jin furtively tracking the looking around, it feels funny enough that the quiet doesn't get awkward. Jin's switched off the bright ceiling light and put on a desk lamp on a low table. It feels cozy. Cozy and special and normal, in a strange mix. Maybe it's just that he's here at all.

He notices the stereo, and Jin has put the guitar on a stand next to it. That's when he remembers. "Hey, that song you sang. The second one. What was that? Tanaka didn't know it either."

Jin gives him a quick look, then ponders his guitar. "Yeah, he wouldn't," he says. "It's mine, I wrote it." He turns red, and rolls his eyes at the same time.

"You did? That's pretty amazing." If he'd known, he'd have listened more to the lyrics… but not all lyrics are about real things any more than all acting is, maybe it doesn't matter so much. "I really liked that song."

"Yeah?" Jin looks happy. "Thank you. I like it too. I mean, sometimes I write stuff, and it's okay, but I like this one." He shrugs sheepishly. "It's just something I do when I'm at home."

Kame gives the guitar another glance. "Did you teach yourself?"

"Yeah, mostly. Do you play?"

Kame doesn't, and somehow Jin takes that as incentive to get him to try. He laughs when Kame is actually not sure he's holding it right – "Don't you watch TV?" – but concedes that it's nice Kame doesn't want to do bad things to Jin's precious guitar and be embarrassed for all eternity.

Jin moves his fingers, and Kame feels a little tingle at the careless touch, the first tonight. He feels Jin's breath when he laughs at the horrible sounds Kame is producing, and how close they are sitting on the couch, and he can still smell the bar in Jin's hair.

A few more wrong chords and a long explanation about unlocking later, Jin pulls back and raises his elbow. He sniffs his shirt. "You know… we kind of stink."

Kame nods. "We do stink a little." After a fun night at a bar, it's just what you'd expect. At least they stink together.

Jin pushes himself off the couch with lazy movements and a cute grin. "You want to shower? I can get you a towel and stuff."

"Might be a good idea." Kame tries not to look like he takes it as suggestive. Right now they're playing guitar, and maybe de-smellifying their hair.

"Wait," Jin says. He tugs a zipped-up plastic rectangle, which seems to hold spare sheets and towels from the top of his wardrobe. A bit more rummaging in a drawer, and then Jin hands him a huge towel with a Coca-Cola print and a pair of boxers and t-shirt. "Don't make any sudden moves in there," he says, but breaks into an inopportune grin mid-joke. "You'll break the walls and I don't know how to fix them."

Kame gets it when he closes the bathroom door behind him. It's tiny. As neat as the rest of the apartment. No clutter at all, just the necessary stuff for shower and shave. He dumps his clothes on the floor as tidily as he can so he won't step on them wet.

The shower is basic and uncomplicated. He sets the water to hot and stands there for a bit, just the warmth around him, the joy of the evening, Jin waiting outside happy and honest and bossing Kame around with guitar lessons. He laughs to himself.

It's funny to mooch Jin's shampoo and shower gel. Usually it's the other way around. But he's sure he's allowed, Jin wouldn't mind. Funny, and weirdly ordinary, like he imagines a sleepover with a boyfriend when you don't quite know where he keeps his spare toilet paper and his tea cups yet.

He rinses himself off quickly; it's kind of lonely in here, and who knows how much hot water Jin's got. Towelled off, he pulls on the shorts and t-shirt that thankfully don't make him look too silly.

Back in the main room, Jin has folded out the couch and hunted up two pillows in definitely not matching designs, but currently he's dealing with his incredible pile of dishes.

"I kept it brief," Kame says, his old clothes under his arm. "Didn't want to leave you with cold water."

Jin wipes his hands unceremoniously on his jeans. "No worries, it's a pretty decent shower." Then he smiles. "But good of you to keep your rescue credits in mind."

Kame feels his face warm under his dampness, but he hides it, while Jin grabs some more stuff, invites Kame to sit down and do whatever, and disappears himself.

So he sits back down with the guitar and tries that last thing Jin showed him. It can't be that hard.

Hm.

Okay, so he knows some things are harder than they look. Still, it's not like he's trying to play a whole _song_ , so for his fingers to be so clumsy is a bit… hm.

Only he's not really annoyed; he can't be, sitting on Jin's fold-out bed with a blue pretty duvet and the guest pillow that Kame is pretty sure no one ever uses. It's a smaller bed, too. Could get crowded. Warm and close.

He keeps trying with the guitar anyway.

There's some rattling of the shower cubicle not long before Jin comes back out. He's smiling, a cloud of steam coming out after him. "I heard that! Your problem is the pinky, you need to stretch that more on the third string!"

Kame plucks a string, maybe the fourth, he doesn't know, and it gives a guilty quiver. "Well, you know. I thought it can't be that hard. Only it is."

"I'm sure you could learn it fast if you had more time," Jin says, now completely without teasing. His hair's still a mess only wet now, and Kame hasn't seen those blue and white checked boxers on him before. They're cutely domestic.

Kame didn't smell the freshness on himself but he gets it from Jin when he sits down and takes the guitar, skin and warmth and the shampoo that reminds him of wet morning grass.

Jin shows him the chords again; Kame enjoys it mostly for the proximity. Eventually he pleads aching fingers.

It's when Jin puts the guitar back on its stand that Kame sees something silver flash under his t-shirt. Like… okay, he noticed the piercing before. Long before; he prefers not to think about that now.

"Hey," he says when Jin is back, because it doesn't seem intrusive when they're close like this and he's wearing Jin's underwear. "You got your bellybutton pierced?"

"Huh?" Jin frowns a bit. "Oh. Yeah. Um, a few years ago. I don't wear it often, just…"

"When you're rocking up the bar?"

"Yeah." Jin sits to face him, cross-legged, and Kame can't help staring for a moment at his stomach, covered again by the plain black t-shirt.

When Jin rolls his eyes this time, he only turns a little red. He lifts the bottom of the shirt a bit. "Want to see?"

It's a plain silver stud; on Jin's flat stomach it looks hot, and strangely intimate. "I like it," Kame says, though he doesn't want to say how much, not when Jin is part amused, part awkward. "It suits you."

"I like it too," Jin confesses, and it takes him a moment to lower the shirt again. It's a weird enough moment that they both end up laughing.

"Did it hurt?"

Jin makes a face. "I… not really, I thought it would be worse. The guy who did it, he had some _seriously_ scary looking tools." If his still-freaked-out look is anything to go by, it must have been bad. "But then it healed okay."

Kame imagines a younger Jin trying to play it cool through scary piercing procedures. He smiles, feeling warm again, from the shower and from the warm air in here but also from Jin, sitting there in just boxers and a t-shirt. Kame wonders what that bellybutton stud feels like to the touch, if he can touch if he's careful. It's like he can feel Jin's body heat from here. He's looking forward to… it. Everything.

Jin's eyes are soft… right until now when they skitter away, skimming Kame, his naked legs and the bed that stretches out behind them and…

Not good. Whatever it is. It's not good.

What there is is the bed. And that it's time. He can see Jin swallow before everything goes flat and blank.

"So…" Jin says, his smile coming on bright and eager, the worst sell Kame has seen all night.

It freezes him cold, that sinking feeling of loss, of stupidity. He got it all wrong and there's no way to make it work, there's nothing.

Then it passes. This time he got it and he got it in time. This time there is something he can do.

He smiles back; a _better_ sell than Jin, because he does this for a living. He just needs a moment, to decide the best way, and he doesn't even look around in the apartment. Jin's apartment; Jin's bed and Jin's sheets, his home. They were both stupid.

Then he lets his smile go sheepish. "Actually…"

Jin nods, still eager on the surface. As he has to be.

Kame sighs and turns it into a badly suppressed yawn. "I'm sorry. This is really lame but… I'm actually kind of tired, it's been a pretty tough week.. I think I'd be… you know." He can't blush on the spot but he thinks he's getting the message across. "Maybe not much good."

Jin just blinks. "Really?"

Kame looks chagrined. "Sorry. I know it's…" He squirms a bit.

"Hey, no, don't be embarrassed!" Jin is shifting closer on the bed and for a moment Kame thinks he'll touch him. But he doesn't, just awkwardly crosses his hands in his lap. "If you're sure… it's totally cool, I mean, and yeah, it's late, just…"

Jin is thinking about the money.

"I had a great evening. A _really_ great evening. Thank you for that. And, well, it's not your problem that I, um. You know."

"Are you sure I couldn't…" A little frown before Jin tries the blankness again. "And I have coffee too…"

Kame thinks he can watch his sense for fairness and the hope Kame won't change his mind battle it out in his eyes. He needs to end this.

He grimaces again. "I think that'll just wake up my brain, and then I can lie in the dark feeling embarrassed." He tries another smile. "And, you know, I'd appreciate it if this didn't go any further?" It _isn't_ Jin's problem when a client is no longer in the mood after hours on a date, but maybe it's better addressed before Jin gets any chivalrous ideas.

"Yes," Jin says, "sure, okay. My lips are sealed." At last he looks less like he wants to give him a refund, and more like he's planning to die protecting Kame's shameful secret.

"Thank you," Kame says. "And, really. For the invitation, too. This is so much nicer than celebrating my early return from filming at home, alone with my cat."

Jin bursts out laughing. Free like before, before this awful little interlude. "Yeah, okay. That would be kind of tragic."

"So…" Kame says, and the echo makes Jin grin. "Bed?"

That works for Jin.

Kame is moderately tired, and sleep is better than sitting here and letting the way Jin is smiling and comfortable and barely dressed talk to his libido. So he's glad when after three more minutes they are lying under the cover with the light out, and there's no more chance for Jin to come across hard evidence to disprove Kame's protestations.

A faint glow from streetlights is painting a wall orange. It's a small bed; smaller when you're determined not to touch.

"Are you okay?" Jin asks. "Do you have enough of the duvet?"

"I'm fine," Kame says. "I didn't steal too much?"

There's a smile in Jin's voice. "You didn't. Just stop me if I do during the night. Feel free to kick me."

"Okay, I'll do that," Kame says. "Good night."

"Good night."

Kame lies very still. Jin is stretched out on his stomach and doesn't move, either. It takes about ten minutes, Kame thinks, before he's pretty sure Jin is asleep.

He thinks it would be really bad manners to beat off in Jin's bed with Jin right next to him. He wants to giggle, but then he doesn't do that, either.

 

### Friday 23 January

Jin's sitting bolt upright in bed before he knows why; then he hears the plastic lid of his tea container clatter to a halt against the wood of the cupboard.

"Fuck," says Kame. "Sorry."

Jin laughs. Partly adrenaline. "Good morning." It's light outside, so it can't be too early, but the sunlight falling through the windows is low.

"Can I offer you some tea? The water's almost there. I hope you don't mind that I went through your cupboards."

Kame sounds amazingly awake. His hair's still unkempt, though, and he is running around barefoot in Jin's t-shirt and boxers. Jin pulls the pillow under his head and curls up under the duvet. "Tea's great. When did you get up?"

"Hm, an hour ago maybe?"

Jin peers up at the alarm clock. It's only nine. "Do you have to go somewhere?"

"Eventually." Kame moves efficiently around Jin's little kitchen, tidying things away as he goes. It gives Jin time to wake up for real, and to get used to the idea of someone else being in his kitchen, making him tea. "I just woke up early."

Finally there are two steaming mugs. Jin sits up when Kame brings them over. He brushes the duvet flat so Kame can sit. "When I wake up early, I turn over and go back to sleep."

Kame grins at him. "I did try not to wake you yet."

Jin finds this getting up early and cheerful pretty perverse. If Kame's anything like him, he can't have slept that well in unfamiliar surroundings, on Jin's bed that's technically too small for two people.

Because Kame spent the night here. Just sleeping.

It feels a little stumbly to remember that. He shouldn't forget again, or whatever the hell he was doing with some basic facts, so basic only an idiot would be caught off guard.

He has a sip from the nice hot tea. Then he tries a smile, tries to gauge. There's stuff he could do. For free.

"Hey," he says, slowly, not sure how directly he wants to ask. But Kame's been away for two weeks. It wouldn't _have_ to be weird. Maybe he's just thinking the wrong thoughts, and it's like rollercoasters or piercings. More unsettling before the fact.

Kame isn't fazed, just gives him an assessing look over his own tea. "Yeah," he says. "I'd have stayed in bed if I'd wanted you to get any funny ideas. You don't have to make up for my little… failings."

Jin bites his lip and hopes Kame isn't still embarrassed. He feels a little guilty in any case. If they'd been elsewhere, he might have tried harder to get things to work after all. There can be ways.

But Kame seems to know what he wants, and to be fine with it. And that's great, that's wonderful.

"Okay," he says. "You're the boss." If Kame wanted, he could simply ask if Jin is available for another comfort. But maybe being here feels strange for him after all. Maybe he's discovered he doesn't want sex in Jin's apartment any more than Jin does.

Kame gives him a very critical look, but doesn't say anything. Jin sips his tea and enjoys the warmth, and the impressive show that is Kame's bed hair. He'll try to make it especially nice for Kame next time. They can do all the things Kame likes best.

"How do you feel about breakfast?" Kame asks after a while. "I think I even found where you keep the rice." He gets a busy look.

"Wait, no!" Jin puts his tea down and hurries to get up. "You don't do that. You're the guest now. You're not getting to make rice, _I'll_ … um, put on the rice maker. And put rice in it."

Kame follows him to the kitchen, head tilting. "Not in that order, I hope."

They reach an accommodation. Jin measures out rice while Kame measures out water, and Kame is granted the right to ceremonially press the on-button. They finish their tea while they wait, and make more, and Jin learns that Kame wants to go see his agency about something or other.

"I'll have to go back and change first, though," he says after Jin showed him how to fold down the table. "I kind of dread getting back into my clothes."

"When I move, I want to get a balcony," Jin says. "Even if it's a tiny one. Just for airing stuff and drying things."

"You're planning to move?"

"Well, yeah. Somewhere cheaper." Kame probably finds that hilarious, given the size of this place. "And this is club-owned property, so. I'd like something different."

Kame subtly checks the place out again with this new information, maybe trying to find Jin's style among the white. "Yes, I get that."

Jin smiles. "And at least I won't have much to pack."

They set the table together, mats and chopsticks and soy sauce. Kame takes the eggs across and Jin finds two leftover natto packs. He's glad he didn't finish the pickles at lunchtime yesterday.

"Will that be okay?" he asks. It's not like breakfasts at Kame's, with the selection of rice and fish and Western foods like bread and French cheese, or that first time Kame was less prepared and made him scrambled egg. Come to think of it… "I can make scrambled egg, too, only I don't have all the stuff you put in it."

"This is great," Kame says. "I like traditional. This is perfect."

When Jin turns around, Kame has got the rice bowls out of the cupboard by the mugs and is staring the rice maker into submission. A few seconds later it pings.

"Ladle is in the second drawer," Jin says, and checks over the table again to see if there's anything else they need. You'd think they'd get in each other's way in this small place. They don't. "More tea?"

Eventually they're sitting at the little table with their steaming bowls. Kame has cracked his egg over the rice, and Jin has gone for natto, for starters anyway. Kame is making weird faces at his pickles. It's good. A different sort of normal.

Kame still doesn't flirt in the morning, or hint. He likes it nice and quiet too, and he even likes it around Jin's tiny table with the limited offerings of Jin's kitchen, and somehow that makes Jin warm and light inside, like Kame drinking beer in ridiculous sunglasses or walking next to him and making the dark less creepy.

Well, except when he's being a mean little menace.

Kame looks up. He wipes a quick hand over his chin. "Did I spill something?"

"What? No. You're fine." Then he gets it; he was looking. "I only wondered… aren't you cold in just that t-shirt?" Okay, so it's lame. But true enough. Jin put on his sweatpants first thing.

"I'm not cold." Kame gives him a slow smile. "You live in a very cozy environment."

"It's civilized," Jin defends himself and snaps with his chopsticks.

They finish their rice in an easy silence. Jin's in no rush, and whatever Kame wants to do at his agency must be flexible too.

"Do you think Wednesday would work for you?" Kame asks then. He sounds shy again and seems really intent on the last bits of rice.

"I have time," Jin says immediately. There'll be time. He'll arrange that.

"I still think that's when I can get away easiest."

Wednesday seems far away now. Almost a week. But of course Kame has stuff to do when he's been away for weeks; and Kame has a wife. "Wednesday is great."

"I'll be in touch again when I can be certain, but I'll really try."

"Good." Jin smiles.

Then it's time. For clothes, for calling cabs. Jin puts the dishes away while Kame is in the bathroom with his new toothbrush, and he tries to feel more relieved.

It was rash to invite a client home, even Kame. He used to know better; he does know better, and normally he wouldn't be so stupid. So it worked out and he caught an undeserved break; he should still be more eager to have Kame out of his home.

Still he likes the way Kame pads around barefoot on his floor until he can't delay putting on socks any longer, enjoys watching Kame wrinkle his nose at his sweater, find his stuff together, empty the last of his tea.

"Thanks for the food," Kame says. "And the bed. And the music."

"You're very welcome."

"And the beer."

Jin laughs, just because.

Then Kame puts his coat on. The cab will pick him up at the bus stop down the road in five minutes.

"So, I'll be in touch?"

"Yes," Jin says, "that'll be good."

Kame is running his fingers through his hair to flatten it, then fishes his sunglasses out of his coat pocket with one hand while reaching for the door with the other.

"Wait," Jin says. Suddenly it seems important. He steps forward, reaches past Kame to keep the door closed, and presses Kame up against it, smoky clothes and all.

It's a smushed sort of kiss, just one for the road, to tide them over. Kame tastes minty and soft.

"Just, until Wednesday," Jin mumbles when he's done. "So you don't forget me in the meantime."

Kame is drawing a shaky breath from somewhere deep down. "You have a very interesting idea of your… memorability."

Jin giggles a bit, and then he lets Kame go and straightens out his coat to remove all evidence of smushing. "There, now you're all set again."

"Thank you very much." Kame is shaking his head faintly, his cheeks still flushed. He thinks for a moment, before he slips his hand around Jin's neck and pulls him down for a return kiss, this one very brief and dry.

"Thank you," he says again. "See you next week."

The door closes behind him, and it's quiet. Jin turns around. Quiet and empty. His own space again, just for him. Safe.

Thick clouds have eaten the sun and there's a drizzle when he finally opens the curtains completely. He hopes Kame won't get wet.

Jin's got hours yet before he starts work. Comfort with Yokoyama, all pre-arranged, and he won't have to hang out in the lounge unless he wants more, after. Not likely.

He starts moving things back in place, stuff that was pushed to the edges to make a bit more room for them. Though they were fine, they fitted well in here. Cozy. And Kame didn't seem to mind how small it was.

The dishes don't take long, and then it's like he was never here.


	37. Chapter 37

### Saturday 24 January

Kame smiles into the strobing flashlights. Midori is close beside him, striking in her new pearl green dress, and he knows she'll be smiling, too. The red-carpet shots of the entire cast are over, and here's where the paparazzi not invited to the afterparty get to take their human interest pictures, before the screening starts. Out here, you can't stop them, you just keep them in mind.

Toyoda and her husband are a few steps away. They said a warm hello earlier, and Kame was amused how she makes him feel like a midget these days, with her height and the heels and her eight-month-big belly. But Midori would kill him if he said that to a pregnant woman.

The reporters are interested now and not hostile, asking her polite questions about the baby and her pretty blue dress, while her husband lets the cameras and questions dance around them with the puzzled amusement of a civilian. Iijima and the producers like to pretend that they supported her all along.

Somewhere beyond them Morioka is standing with a pretty young girl. They haven't spoken. Yet.

Kame smiles around and says a few words about the movie, about teachers and responsibility, about inspiration. He tacks on a sentence about bullying for good measure, and then he's done.

Jin will probably see the photos in the papers tomorrow.

When there's an early chance to introduce Midori to the production team, Kame takes it. He finds his friendliest smile for Matsura, who is wearing a tiny, low-cut pink dress, more jewelry than fabric hanging off her. He's not going too near her, though, and with Midori here he has the perfect excuse. Then he says hi to the boys. Kobi has found a girlfriend to bring along after all, and she blushes when introduced to Kame. He doesn't hang around long.

"You looked splendid," Kame's mother says to Midori when they rejoin Kame's parents on the sidelines. Then she pats Kame on the back. "You weren't so bad, either."

As usual when he's starring, he got four tickets for the premiere and as usual, he's passed the spare ones on to his parents. They like the atmosphere, the excitement, and the chance to see one or two of the actors he worked with. They don't get to go to the afterparty, that's partners only, but they're more interested in being among the first to see his new work, anyway.

"I think I detected a dig at old Watanabe-sensei from your junior high Math class in there," his dad says slyly.

Kame grins where the photographers can't see. "Would I do such a thing?"

*~*~*

Kame's not very fond of premiere screenings. It's unreasonable and he knows it; but it makes a difference whether he thinks of people theoretically watching his work anytime, anywhere, without him around, or whether he's sitting right there in the room with them, knowing exactly what they see because he's seeing it too. Sometimes he just wants to hide.

Less than five minutes in, he realizes he should have known that this one would be worse.

It's amazing, how much he's allowed himself to forget over the last weeks. So much that the shock of watching himself, of having it all come back turns his stomach. On screen he catches the boys skipping school and he remembers sitting in his car during a break from filming, calling Ootomo to inform him that Jin had been more accommodating this time.

Kame knows now how little choice Jin had; or thought he had, so new to Johnny's, glad to be there, desperate to keep that job. If only they'd talked then. If only Kame hadn't been… all that.

Then the talk about gangs with Morioka where he couldn't even remember his lines, on the most shameful day and night of his life. With editing and clever cuts, it's barely noticeable.

And of course they didn't shoot chronologically, so it's all mixed up. Here's the office scene that needed six retakes because he'd just remembered about Souji, was mortified about Yuuya, thought he was figuring himself out. He can still see how distracted he is, right there on screen, a lackluster performance a beginner would cringe at. Next there's the fight with Toyoda in Fukushima's office, after which he went home and picked a striking face out of Johnny's online catalogue for reasons he didn't even understand.

It's not a film; it's a jumbled record of him losing his mind.

He should show this to Jin. He's not sure what for, except so Jin knows that he wasn't just an asshole, he was a fucked-up incompetent one who didn't have a clue what he was doing anymore. Though Jin probably got that message, got it plenty.

Still, maybe one day.

For now, he's just looking forward to Wednesday, when they can be normal together again. He's missed the sex; three weeks now since that stolen Sunday before Hokkaido, and what he missed even more lying in the dark in Jin's bed was the warmth, the touching, Jin feeling good under his hands. But of course that's part of sex, and it was good they didn't go there. Jin probably needed the distance, too.

He thinks he understands what happened last week, and he's glad his instinct was right for a change. Jin was himself when singing, was nobody's… until he remembered. It could have been Kame or anybody, and Kame is glad it was him and they got out of that night intact.

They shot the romantic finale between him and Toyoda the day after he took Jin home… after. He had himself in hand then, everything blank and unimportant. Did an excellent job, first-class work, the scene is solid. He can't remember if it was a single take; he didn't care enough to notice. He isn't there, just the role is, he's nowhere around.

So many people here in the dark with him, watching him right there, knowing nothing about this. Knowing nothing about him.

And of course he's glad about that.

Jin knows almost everything. Kame should be afraid, and he doesn't know why he's not.

*~*~*

"A very nice man, that Kawamura-sensei," is Kame's father's verdict when they have shuffled out of the theatre, while his mom gives him a knowing smile.

"Bet you'd have preferred her part."

'Her' being Toyoda's Shoda-sensei, of course, and Kame would never deny that. "She did it very well, though," he says. It doesn't leave the sour taste of missed opportunity in that respect; Toyoda did the part justice.

"You worked well together with that young man, too," his mother says, sorting out her coat and shawl ready to brave the January night. "I haven't seen him in anything before."

"He's not yet established," Kame says. "I hope he gets more chances, he's very good."

They still haven't spoken.

*~*~*

There's more posing at the afterparty, and the paparazzi will mingle, too, looking for the less formal shots. Only respectable magazines, though, and they know the rules for being asked back the next time. The tabloids were left at the door. It never makes Kame feel much safer.

The starting shoot, with all the food, Champagne and congratulatory bouquets still mounted up intact around them, is of Kame, Morioka and Toyoda again, and now Kame makes sure that they end up talking together over their Champagne once the formal photographing is over.

The woman with Morioka is his younger sister. "My twentieth birthday present," she says to Kame, and the smile she gives him has no shadows. Whatever Morioka thinks of Kame now, he's clearly kept it to himself.

Kame says his congratulations, and Midori asks her if she's also interested in show business. Then they all crowd around Toyoda so she can have a tiny sip from her Champagne without any paparazzi seeing.

"I'm doing small stuff right now," Morioka says when Kame asks. "I tried for the lead in that TBS racing drama, didn't get it. My agent showed me a script for a romantic comedy involving a bicycle company heir, but I felt… it was a direction in which I didn't wish to develop."

Kame laughs. "I'm so glad. I saw that script. You'd be wasted."

Then he catches himself. He can no longer make such comments. Morioka eyes him a bit suspiciously.

"Kazuya said you were great to work with," Midori says, filling the awkward pause with more complication. Now Morioka is looking positively puzzled.

"I am very glad to hear that," he manages politely.

"You should have seen their scenes together," Toyoda says. "It just… flowed. In the can in a single take. Remember the day we swapped out Nogushi-san's scene…"

Morioka isn't looking at Kame, is barely agreeing with them. Kame looks for a moment when neither of them is being directly addressed, and leans towards him. "Might I have a word?"

At least Morioka follows him the two steps away from the others.

"I want to apologize for my strange behaviour back then," Kame says, because nothing but the direct approach will do. "I was having a few really bad months, I was stressed and paranoid and I was taking it out on anybody who got close enough. You got close enough. I'm sorry."

For a moment, Morioka looks like he's about to respond with some standard politeness. Then he says, "Paranoid, yeah. I thought so." The directness is what Kame liked about him from the start. He holds still for Morioka's critical once-over; smiles into it. "Are you saying you got over that?"

"Well," he says sheepishly, "here I am…"

"And it's not just that I'm safe enough to talk to while I have a girl hanging off my arm and you're here with your gorgeous wife?"

"No!" Kame laughs uncomfortably. It's not, but it doesn't change what he was afraid of then, and maybe he'd still not want to go to restaurants alone with Morioka. Or maybe he would. The spotlights are off them. He went with Tanaka and didn't think twice about it.

He went with Tanaka to _Jin's local bar_.

That was stupid, though, and he got lucky. He'll be playing it safer again. But Morioka…

Morioka sighs. "For what it's worth, I was never into you. I like girls. But even if I didn't and even if I had been, a simple 'no' would have been the adult response."

"I didn't think you were… into me," Kame says hastily. He didn't start this conversation for _that_. "I thought things might be misinterpreted, that's all. You know what the press is like. And _you_ need to be careful, too."

Morioka gives him a long look. Then a little bow. "Thank you for your advice," he says politely. "I think I prefer to have friends."

Kame can't blame him. "I'm sorry," he says. "I hope you find good ones."

Morioka looks like he's sorry too. Then his gaze sharpens, right as Kame notices the clacking of high heels and the jangle of jewelry approaching.

"I'll leave you to your fan," Morioka says with a smile somewhere between real and resigned. He wouldn't have thrown Kame to the wolves before, but that was before, and they're not friends now. Kame made sure of that. So he gets Matsura instead.

Midori is chatting with Toyoda while the husband is gone someplace, and Kame won't inflict Matsura on them. So he sticks it out. He's an actor, he can act; surely he can manage the part of somebody who doesn't find her shallow and annoying for ten minutes. Give Morioka time to get far away.

Matsura is doing her usual – flirting with a plan, girly and predatory by turns, too much in his space. Kame wonders if that's what it takes to get a part these days when you're her age; hopes it's not. Midori never acted like that, but then she never made it in the business, in the end.

He asks after her news, which she is very happy to share along with her dissatisfaction of the roles she gets, the ones she doesn't get, and several producers. When she asks him for career tips, he says, "Be yourself," and feels like an idiot.

At least she's not interested enough to ask him personal questions.

By the time he breaks free in a way that won't make her feel bad, Midori and Toyoda have sat down and Toyoda is stretching out her legs in front of her. Kame swipes some orange juice and Champagne off a passing waiter's tray and rejoins them. Toyoda gets the juice, Midori the Champagne, and Toyoda's husband arrives with snacks from the buffet just in time for Kame to grin at him empty-handed. "Sorry," he says.

"Understandable priorities," the man grins back.

After two rounds of politeness Kame is the one who goes get more for them.

Toyoda turns a bright smile on him when he finally sits with a drink of his own. "So how are you doing? You look better somehow."

"So do you," he returns the compliment. "I think we were all stressed during that production."

"I was sitting there watching myself and getting flashbacks to hurting feet and horrible coffee," she says. Flashbacks. Yeah.

"But it was worth it," he offers, because she did do an excellent job. "I'm glad you stuck it out. It's really your movie."

"Oh, I'm glad too. And who knows, maybe it'll help someone after me, and some other producer isn't going to be quite so much of a jerk to a pregnant woman on his film." She stops with a grin. "Whoops."

Midori giggles secretly. He'd always thought they'd get on well.

"I take it you aren't going to be working for a little while?"

"Hmm," she says thoughtfully. "I won't be taking acting parts for a year or so, that's for sure. But I was thinking of hawking myself out for talk shows. Talk about parenting, talk about being a pregnant actress…"

"That's a great idea," Midori says. "Pregnant women or mothers shouldn't just become invisible."

"I can keep my eyes open for possible opportunities," Kame adds.

"You've done so much for us already," Toyoda's husband says, his hand resting lightly on Toyoda's shoulder. "I haven't had a chance to thank you before. If you hadn't called the press—"

She's leaning into the touch as she nods affirmation but it's too much, there's no need.

"I only told them the truth," Kame says quickly. "I was very happy to work with Toyoda-san."

"Sometimes I'm envious her colleagues see more of her than I do," her husband says, but it's teasing and the two smile at each other as she leans closer. Kame remembers she said that he works as a deputy department head somewhere in a medium-sized company.

Kame wonders whether he should be touching Midori more, too. He's sure she would like it; the press would like it too. He used to do it more, glad for the right kind of paparazzi shots. These days he likes to keep it private, and of course he'll return her touches there.

She feels soft and warm and still nothing like Jin.

And those are thoughts he should be ashamed of, and is, and it doesn't help to look at Toyoda and her salaryman husband, who fills out paper forms for a living and brings home less than she does, and know she got the better deal.

 

### Wednesday 28 January

Junno is looking at him weirdly. It's a quick glance through his study glasses and then back at his laptop. Jin checks his buttons and his fly, but all's well there.

A good shirt and a freshly dry-cleaned suit, because he'll be in the lounge tonight looking for custom. He came straight from lunch break sex with Karube, figuring he might as well. He didn't expect to spend the evening at home anyway.

He's showered and changed, but it's still early. Pretty busy in the break room for a Wednesday, though, the air full of damp and deodorant. Jin has had tea and double-checked his hair, and he could go down to the lounge if he was at all keen to be first there.

He told Kame not to feel guilty about the cancellation, and he really shouldn't mope. They'll meet later in the week and it'll be just as nice. He likes looking forward to things, and he's not some wife entitled to sulking. Kame called him, personally. How many escorts get that?

Junno's looking at him again.

"Is something wrong?" Jin asks.

"Oh. No, not at all. I'm just doing the December ranking," Junno explains, and before he gets any further Masaki is lunging across his laptop.

"About time!"

"Hoping you'll finally make it to the big leagues?" Tadayoshi asks him. The big leagues is only Kimura-senpai, and Hina with the hardcore SM. Nobody else will ever make that much.

"No, just want to be better than you," Masaki grins. "I ended up with this guy who's into fisting, I want to know if it made a dent. I was fucking terrified I'd kill him or something…" But he trails off, and when he blinks up from the screen, he gives Jin a funny look, too.

"Whatever it says I did, it's probably some mistake," Jin says. He no longer comes last all the time, but he's not interested in the ranking anyway. He's got rent to pay and money to save, and beyond that he doesn't care whether he was a better or worse escort than Ryuuhei in any given week.

"Nice going, Jin," Masaki says, at long last.

"What did he do?" Jun asks before Jin can, and Junno obligingly turns the screen towards him. Jun's eyebrows go up. "Well, well."

"Is he better than you?" Tadayoshi asks.

Jun snorts. "Right." But when he winks at Jin, it's almost affectionate. "Nice," he says.

Jin isn't sure how to feel about everybody being so surprised that he's not trawling the bottom for once, but then he reminds himself he doesn't care about the ranking. "Thanks." When Yuuya peeks at Junno's screen and blinks up at him, too, he relents. "Okay, so where am I?"

"You're _really_ high up," Yuuya informs him with a wide smile. Then he bites his lip.

"You did better than Yuuya," Junno says, and, okay, that is unexpected. "And almost as good as me!" Junno doesn't tend to get rests, but the porn fame makes him luxury and he can go six times a night, never gets exhausted. He's beaming at Jin.

Yuu-chan looks like he would beam too if he didn't remember he's Jin's junior.

Right. That… maybe he should have a look, that's probably polite. He knew it was a lot last month, he checked his account. Still.

"…better than Yuuya," Tadayoshi is repeating in an impressed voice. Yuu-chan is still blushing.

It's all Kame. Jin's doing better overall, and he can stay out of Eda's way without worrying about his income or his quota. But that he's doing so well is all down to Kame, who always pays for rests even when they don't fuck at all.

Junno's list is big. With lots of complicated brackets and lines. Jin's name is… pretty high up. He can tell as much because the order above him seems right.

"If I eliminate the luxury factor, results get even more interesting," Junno says, "see, if you look at the list like—"

"But it's idiotic to take out the luxury factor, it's not like it's some random variable," Jun protests.

"It's called an independent variable," Junno corrects him cheerfully.

"Guys." Tadayoshi is rolling his eyes. "Can we manage _one month_ without this discussion? It makes _no fucking difference_."

"I don't know," Masaki considers. "I only spend randomly variabled money on clothes so it's kind of important to know about the independent divisions in my bank account—" He stops when Jun gets him around the chest with a damp towel. "Hey, that hurts. I hope it's water and not your mansweat."

Jin has tried to figure out the various entries and numbers for a second too long, and Junno takes his puzzlement for interest.

"It's really handy," he says. He clicks on something and the lines reshuffle. "If I factor out the kink…"

"…I am broke and you all have to buy me onigiri." Hina is grinning at them from his chair. For him this is always boring and predictable.

"Why do you factor out the kink?" Jin asks reluctantly.

"Oh, just because it's fun. It's fascinating, see?"

Jin doesn't, but nods anyway. "I guess that's useful, huh."

"It takes some fiddling at the start with some of the guys, but then you're all set. And you're pretty easy to calculate, actually," Junno says, still with that wide smile and to nobody's great surprise. Jin's easy. He sucks cock and gets fucked.

Someone else congratulates Jin. Yuuya has pulled back from the screen and is thinking thoughts to himself.

"I guess that's Kamenashi," Jun muses, but matter-of-factly; not like there's anything wrong with getting half your money from sex, and sometimes non-sex, with Kame.

Jin nods vaguely. "Yeah, I guess. December… yeah. He had lots of time. I guess."

"Good for you if he likes you," Tadayoshi says. "He doesn't do anything under a rest. Not even with me, and we don't really know each other."

Jun is intrigued. "Ooh, romance guy, is he?"

Tadayoshi shrugs and drinks up the rest of his tea. "I think he doesn't want it to feel too much like… whores, you know."

"Ah," Jun says wisely. "I've had some of those too."

Jin makes a general sound that disagrees with nothing and prompts Junno to reshuffle the names again with another click. He doesn't want to know who they were, Jun's clients who wanted to forget they were with a whore, and he doesn't want to think about the fact that Jun probably never invited them to his favourite bar to an Open Mic night.

Yuuya has lost the junior shyness and is following the whole thing with uncomfortable interest; Jin tries not to meet his eyes, either. If he knew about the bar…

"I can also give you your hourly rate with the different types of engagements averaged out," Junno suggests. "If you're interested."

"Not really," Jin admits, hesitant because he doesn't want to spoil Junno's fun, either. "It's just a fluke, really… I'll just be disappointed for January if I know too much." He tries a grin, and Junno cheer remains undampened. "Thanks for doing all this."

"Hey, it's fun! You're very welcome!"

Jin grabs his jacket. Now he's got the stats on how much he depends on Kame these days, he should maybe go to work.

*~*~*

Wednesdays start slow. Jin spends some time at a table overpopulated with underemployed escorts, until some more of the older clientele trickle in, as well as a few businessmen showing other businessmen a good time.

He'd be at home now, in jeans and playing guitar, if he had a rest with Kame. Looking forward to things.

It's a little unnerving. Kame pays him so much he's nudging at the bottom of the luxury league, and that's not even why he's sad their date fell through.

He needs to be more careful.

He gets invited to join a table with a very good-looking chief executive of some place in food production and his shorter, fatter friend. Jin orders a Grand Cru and tries to look cultured drinking it.

The tall one is enthralled by Tatsuya, who wears an enigmatic smile and knows an awful lot about mountaineering. Jin knows that Mount Everest is the highest mountain in the world, and he knows the biggest mammal is a whale, because he had a quiz game that asked those kinds of questions when he was a kid.

"It's really a shame about the situation in Tibet," Tatsuya says, prompting nods from the well-manicured mountaineering fan and his perspiring friend. Yeah, Tibet.

Jin knows he could read up on stuff like that; it's not as if Tatsuya has ever climbed an international mountain even if he says very convincingly that the snow must be pretty. But clients can be so random, and where would you start? Once he talked to a guy who was really into taxidermy. But that's hardly something you can guess, and who wants to spend an afternoon looking at pictures of skinned or glassily staring animals for nothing?

He took out a book on baseball from the library the other day, thinking he could surprise Kame by not being so totally clueless at their next meeting. The thought felt good at the time, a happy little thing in the middle of lots of waiting. But he hasn't looked at it again; isn't sure after all if it's any different from buying pretty shirts or getting his eyebrows done.

The sweaty guy isn't into taxidermy. He's not really into mountaineering, either, as becomes clear once Tatsuya has let tall Mr Tibet whisk him away for more private conversations about llamas and the beauty of snow.

Turns out he likes car-racing and big adventure movies, which isn't as special as climbing the Himalayas but at least gives them something to talk about. He also likes Jin's mouth, and up in the standard room Jin gets him off with no fuss and no particular sweaty grossness.

They have another drink together, half-dressed on the couch, and Jin wriggles his cold feet on the carpet and takes the chill as a price worth paying when the guy says they should do that again some time.

A little different is that this one heads back down into the lounge when their hour is up; most of the early ones come and go. Jin has to explain that he'll first freshen up upstairs, and he worries that he was clumsy about it, like he can't wait to wash the guy out of his mouth. But when they see each other again half an hour later, the guy waves shyly across the lounge, and Jin waves back, and that's okay.

Not bad. Jin picks a spot at the bar to stand and look like he belongs. Jun is entertaining a grey businessman who's working his way up to the hand-on-thigh stage, but keeps getting thrown off track by Jun's very mobile flirty slouch. Jaejoong is holding the interest of two familiar-looking clients, and Yuuya and Takahisa are tag-teaming the table with the old professor, all giggles and smiles and the occasional racy look.

He doesn't wonder what Kame talks about with Tatsuya, not much. Kame liked Will Smith, and he liked Jin's bar, and when Jin uses his brain and not the fuzzy mess of feelings that make him stupid when he thinks of Kame in bed hair and cheap borrowed underwear, he knows Kame would never hoot spooky noises or eat greasy midnight food if he wasn't having real fun.

So he's doing something right, too.

Yuu-chan waves at him. Looking out for Jin being lonely and unattached. Jin doesn't want to ignore it, not after the ranking thing. Even if he's no good with Koyama's brand of shyness and the other very important person at the table is the minister for the environment.

*~*~*

"Did it really do so much damage?" Yuuya asks in awe, his frothy pink cocktail halfway to his lips and his hand somewhere between Koyama-sensei and the back of the couch.

Nakamaru and Koyama are reminiscing woefully about the lost decade and not seeing the signs. To Yuuya it is like the dinosaur age.

Elsewhere there's not much going around Jin could join, not even Yamatani for saying hi. So he's sticking around, and it's okay; there are Yuuya's secret glances and some financial advice Koyama-sensei passed on to Takahisa that's probably not bad. Somehow even Nakamaru's randomly confused glances aren't so unsettling anymore. If Jin ignores Koyama's constant blushing at Yuuya's nudges and giggles, it's even fun, kind of. It's easy.

Nakamaru is probably not here to fuck. Or have sex. Or whatever you can have dressed like that and with a tie that must cut off your circulation. Engage in intercourse.

But when Takahisa confuses recession, depression and deflation, he explains it very nicely. Twice and with a lot of words, but nicely. Jin is starting to wonder if their first conversation really had to be such a disaster; if maybe they just made it worse for each other.

He also learns the club uses environmentally friendly soap and shampoo in the little dispensers in the bathrooms. Nakamaru blushes as if it's embarrassing to admit he ever went upstairs and possibly engaged in intercourse.

"It's not only in accordance with the water protection regulations, which of course they have to be, or you could not buy them anymore, but also a particular kind that is very easily biodegradable, which puts less of a strain on the city's water processing facilities. That's very good, I thought. Very good. Isn't it?" He says that to Jin, and blinks nervously.

"Yes," Jin nods. "Very good."

"I thought so. I told Ootomo-san, too. Very good. Admirable."

"Yes."

Nakamaru nods again, and examines his drink in the awkward silence, and okay. This really isn't like back when he couldn't string two sentences together with the worldly club clients and the stuff that goes beyond getting them off.

"You really like your job," he tries, and doesn't take Nakamaru's startled blink as an indication that he's done anything wrong. "Don't you?"

The man actually has to think. "Well, it has its ups and its downs," he says then, which doesn't strike Jin as all that think-worthy, but then he adds, "there are more drawbacks to public service than I thought when I was younger," and they actually manage to get a kind of conversation going among all the words.

Takahisa helps. Amazingly his more random comments really put Nakamaru at ease, and he even gets the minister to laugh and tug his tie loose a little. Maybe there'll be intercourse, or even sex, after all, but it won't be with Jin.

But, hey. If they're going from not causing refunds together to actually being able to talk, Jin's not complaining.

It's Yuu-chan and Koyama-sensei who rise first, though, Koyama still looks like he's afraid of being rude. Nakamaru says something about a VIP box at some event on Saturday to him, and then there's Yuu-chan with a key, literally taking Koyama-sensei's sleeve and tugging him away.

Now there are just three of them and Jin's starting to feel very much surplus; so he makes his excuses and wishes them a good night, and looks around for someplace else to sit. He doesn't need another relaxation, but since he's here…

He starts when he sees Tanaka; wonders if that means Kame… but no, he's a moron, Kame called specially to say he couldn't make it.

Tanaka is just returning from the men's room, in his usual black outfit and still with the bright hair, the chains and the swagger. And Tanaka was at the _bar_ , and for a moment Jin wants to pinch himself and wake up, it feels so weird here under the glittering club lights.

Then Tanaka notices him, and changes course, winding his way around seating groups towards Jin and Jin gets moving to meet him because it's polite to say hello. Tanaka grins widely when they meet near an empty table. "Hi, Jin! Nice to see you. How's it going?"

"Hello," Jin says very respectfully. "It's good to see you here too. I hope you had a pleasant journey home last week."

"Just fine. Caught a taxi right away." He's wearing sunglasses on his head, probably for decoration. "I'm sure you guys were all right too," he adds, and does that wink thing again that makes Jin want to squirm.

"We managed," Jin replies, not thinking about exactly what they didn't manage.

"I'd hoped I might run into Kame here, but he seemed busy."

"Yes, he is. We thought we'd… have a date, but he had to cancel for work."

Tanaka sighs dramatically. "Shame for both of us, right?" Then he gives Jin a thoughtful look Jin can't quite place. "If you're not doing anything, can I buy you a drink?"

Nothing wrong with a drink. Nothing at all. Jin came to say hi. So why is he suddenly thinking… Tanaka shows him a smile full of invitation and— god it would be so awful if that turned into… into anything, and Jin doesn't know what's worse, that he's Kame's friend or that Jin let him into the goddamn _bar_.

Tanaka's eyes narrow.

"Sure," Jin says, finally, because he can't offend him either.

"Hey," Tanaka says. "It's a drink." For a rapper, sternness looks oddly unscary on him. "I don't fish in Kame's pond."

It should sound crass, and Tanaka grimaces like he just realized that, but for Jin there's just the relief, sharp and dizzying. He's got no problem being located in Kame's pond.

"Yes. Sorry. Thanks," he tries; tries a smile. "It's just, that would be weird."

"Yeah, I agree," Tanaka says, and after a still moment, he shakes out his arms and legs and looks much more relaxed, too. "So, drink?"

"A drink would be great," Jin says.

Turns out Tanaka had a table already, with Shota and Danny on their second drinks, so Jin joins them for the usual whore topics and club gambits. It continues to be great until Tanaka says something about what Jin said about rap last week and Shota is curious how he managed not to even see Tanaka visit, and Jin's heart stops.

Tanaka gives him a look so probing that he'd cringe if he had any dread left to spare. "Or maybe it was the week before," he says lightly, drawing an arm around Shota. "Sometimes I forget when I've been here last." He looks at Jin, pointedly apologetic. "Sorry about that."

"It's no problem," Jin says, and if his voice feels like sandpaper, nobody else seems to notice.

Kame picks his friends well.


	38. Chapter 38

### Wednesday 4 February

There aren't many people in the waiting room, but looking at them, Jin's glad he changed out of the suit he wore for the banker and into something normal. There's a woman in a down-to-earth flowery dress and a knit shawl, and another woman with her housewife's apron over her clothes. On the seat across from Jin is an old guy with a muddy cap and hiking boots and a German Shepherd. Jin likes dogs, even though he got bitten by one when he was little. He likes the _idea_ of dogs, anyway.

"Epilepsy," the old guy says to him, not that he asked. "But it's okay, don't worry. Pills are working, this is just a check-up."

"That's great," Jin says uncertainly. "Nice dog." He's not sure he wants to relate his return tale of strange lumps and—

"Tegoshi Taka-chan!" the receptionist calls out, and Jin smiles at the guy as he gets up, waves at the dog.

"That's me."

"Room two," the receptionist says. "Down here, second on the left."

*~*~*

"She's still a little drowsy," the woman in the white coat tells him.

The deluxe cage with its tunnels and the pink wheel is standing on the black vinyl examining table between them. There's a little house with a lot of stuff in it, hay or something, Jin doesn't know. A nest. He can't see any fur.

"Is there anything I have to do?"

Yuuya gave them Jin's number to call once Taka-chan woke up. The message was there when he walked out of the banker appointment and switched his phone back on.

"Just make sure you don't jostle her too much, and that she's got plenty of water." The woman has a friendly, reassuring voice. Perfect for dealing with helpless pet owners.

On reflection, Jin thinks he prefers big dogs to tiny hamsters. At least he doesn't have to be afraid of breaking them.

"No food?" he asks. He doesn't want Yuu-chan's hamster to starve.

"You can put some out for her. She'll touch it when she's ready, but that may be a little while."

"Okay." Jin nods. "Okay." He can't think of any other good questions and he doesn't want to ask her to check again that Taka-chan is definitely alive in there. Or maybe he does.

"Um, are you sure she's fine?"

The smile doesn't even waver. "She's very fine. I checked her personally. She woke up an hour before we called you, and if there were going to be any complications, they would have happened in the meantime. Now she just needs rest."

Well, Jin can offer that. He's got no place to be tonight, and tomorrow is his day off.

Yuuya got a sudden invitation for a weekend getaway – 'weekend' as defined by people who decide their own working days, in this case Wednesday to Sunday. It's a fantastic deal if you don't mind that sort of thing, but Yuuya almost said no because of Taka-chan's appointment and how worried he was about her, until Jin said he could look after her. So there's Yuuya, safely on a plane to Switzerland, and Jin with an unexpected hamster.

He mailed Yuuya when he got the earlier message, and he'll mail him again when he's safely home with Taka-chan. And probably several times more over the next forty-eight hours.

He's seen off with a reminder about the check-up and more reassurances; allegedly the anaesthetic was the worst of it. He carries the cage to reception and pays with the money Yuuya left him, and then he's out in the street balancing a big cage, and thinks he should consider taxis.

*~*~*

"So the mini pig was trying to figure out what this turtle thing was about, and the turtle just sat there like a big lump of stone, but whenever the pig lost interest it would stick its head out again, and the whole deal started over. Lasted for hours."

Jin never knew that a pet was an accessory that would get people to talk to you and never stop. The cabbie has been at it for ten minutes, and all Jin needed to do was say, "And then?" ever so often. It's been quite fun. He'll need to tell Kame the story of the guy who converted his tatami room into an iguana house and couldn't get a cleaner any more.

"And then?" he says, because it's been a while.

"Then the pig found a potato," the driver says. "That made it happy."

Right.

"So your… hamster, right?" the driver says. "It's okay?"

"Yeah. Just sleepy."

"God, my niece had a rabbit, did nothing all day but sleep. Mind you, my aunt has a fat old cat, same thing. Animals, huh? Lucky buggers."

Jin's not sure how lucky you are if you are so tiny and depend on people taking good care of you all the time, feeding you and taking you to the doctor. Paying attention to strange little lumps. He doesn't think the wheel is that interesting as the center of existence.

But the sleeping's probably good. And he's sure Taka-chan gets cuddled a lot.

It still feels funny, the idea that you'd have a hamster when you're working at a sex club. Or any sort of pet. A pet says you know you're settled for the time being. Also says the money won't stop.

Yuu-chan never talks about later, about getting out. Jin doesn't really talk about it either, but somehow he knows that's different. You don't get pets when you're just biding your time.

He wonders if the driving noises and the bumps in the road upset her. No way to tell, the way she's hiding inside the house. Do hamsters come outside and complain when their sleep is disturbed?

But then they're there.

*~*~*

He closes the door quietly behind him, and puts Taka-chan's cage on the low couch table. "Here we are," he says very softly, just in case, but when starts to explain that this is the living room and at night the bedroom, he feels kind of stupid.

He spends a while looking at the little house, but nothing moves. The windows are full of hay, too, no hamster in sight. But the lady said that was normal.

He mails Yuuya to say they got back safely; has a quick shower with his own soap and shampoo. Then he makes himself some tea and sits down again. He reaches for his guitar automatically, but after the first two chords he remembers that he doesn't want to disturb Taka-chan's rest, so he puts it away.

He guesses that excludes TV, too. It's only half past three, but this could turn into a long afternoon. Well, he has that baseball book. So he settles on the couch with it, and his mp3 player, and this is good, it's comfortable and peaceful, until he turns the player off again because how will he hear it if the hamster… breathes funny? Or makes some other noise? Struggles to get out, maybe, he doesn't know if… can they suffocate in all that hay?

Resigned, he puts the music away. Just baseball, then. He tiptoes to his desk and gets a pencil and some paper, and gets ready to take notes about what things like bunting mean.

When he looks up again from descriptions of double play and triple play and different ways to throw the same ball in the same direction, it's starting to get dark. He peers into the cage and there's still nothing. For a minute, he gets a creepy fantasy about what if the cage is empty, there was never a hamster in the cage at all, and nothing is really real, but then he gets it together and makes himself another cup of tea, puts on the least intrusive light, and settles down again to more silence.

When his cell rings, he almost jumps out of his skin. He frantically scrabbles for the phone before it can wake Taka-chan up even though it's a soft melody, it's… it's Kame.

"Shh," Jin hisses into the receiver, and then his brain kicks in properly. "I mean, hi. Sorry, hi!"

"Hi Jin!" Kame sounds intrigued and a little amused. "Everything okay? Is this a bad time?"

"No, not a bad time at all." Jin moves to the furthest corner of his apartment and lowers his voice. "I was just… I was reading. Didn't expect a call."

"You're not at the club?"

"No, I'm at home. I had a date earlier and then I went home. Had some other stuff to do, and it's nice sometimes, with having tomorrow off and all."

"So you're already off-duty," Kame says slowly, thoughtfully, and finally Jin buys a clue and realizes what's going on.

"No! I'm not. I'm just lazing about, off-duty is tomorrow, I'm totally still on. Are you… did you call because you're free?"

"Some things hit my schedule for tomorrow morning, so there's no point in me driving out to the house," Kame says. It's still slow, almost reluctant. "So I thought, if you had time… but I don't want to mess around with your free time again. And we've just seen each other." On Friday. Jin never expected he'd get to see Kame again so soon.

"I have time," he says. "I'm reading a very boring book. Someone needs to stop me."

Kame laughs. "I can do that."

"Your apartment?" He'll have to do his hair again, and think about what to wear, but it's easy with Kame and at least he's already showered and… and damn.

"There's a problem," he says to Kame. "I can't. I forgot. I have a hamster."

A pause. "Excuse me?"

"I'm looking after this hamster. Well, I haven't actually seen it yet but I'm sure it's there, it's just sleeping," he explains. "It had an operation."

Another pause. "A hamster operation?"

"Yeah. It's fine, or at least they said so, apparently everything went well. But I'm looking after it so it doesn't do anything weird or weird stuff happens to it, so… yeah. And I can't leave it alone." Damn. It's a pity. But he's got a responsibility.

Something is going on in that silence; he thinks he can hear Kame breathing weirdly. But then his voice is normal. "Your hamster, do you think it's fit for travel?"

"Well, I got it here fine…" Oh. "You want me to bring the hamster?"

"If it can be persuaded," Kame says. Jin thinks he might be laughing. "I'm sure I can accommodate a recovering hamster for an evening. So pack it up. And take a cab. It's on me."

*~*~*

"You're getting around," Jin tells the sleeping hamster when the taxi turns off the expressway and into Kame's neighbourhood. This driver told him about the breathing problems of Pekingese dogs. He wonders if by the end of all this he'll be known in Tokyo's taxi world as the guy with the hamster.

He knows it's there by now; after he was done with his hair and his clothes, he carefully lifted the little house and cleared aside some of the bedding, enough to make out fur, moving gently from tiny hamster breaths. He was getting too worried, and the thought of showing up at Kame's with a phantom hamster was too much to take.

He smiles into the rearview mirror and tries to look especially respectable. He's wearing the same stuff he wore for New Year's Eve, and Kame has seen both the shirt and the pants in different combinations. But he doubts it's a problem. Jin is always secretly pleased when he recognizes an outfit of Kame's. It makes them feel… familiar.

No comment from the hamster when they stop in Kame's driveway. Jin would normally pick a place two corners away, but the cage is a pain in the ass to carry, and he figures he's never looked less like an escort. He pays, and once he's maneuvered the cage through the side gate and up the stairs, Kame is already waiting for him.

"Hello, you two," he says without batting an eye. He's ready to take the cage off Jin, too, and let him dump his coat and his shoes. The way he's cautious and mindful setting the cage onto the dining table makes Jin smile to himself.

"Hi," Kame says then, just to Jin. He's still got damp hair and he's wearing the grey shirt with the black buttons. He looks good.

"Hi," Jin says. "Thanks for the help."

"Just making him feel welcome," Kame says modestly.

"Her, actually. Not that she's likely to appreciate it right now."

"Is there anything in particular you have to do? Pills? Dressings?" Kame has moved to the kitchen, where he takes a mug from the cupboard and holds it up. Jin nods, and Kame fills it with hot tea.

"Not really, just watch her." Jin's managed to unwind himself from his winter clothes and can finally sit down on the comfy couch, lean back and stretch out his legs. "If something's weird, I take her back to the vet. I wouldn't know what else to do."

"Small animals like that seem terribly fragile," Kame says. "I'd be uncomfortable around them, too. Ran-chan is big." His face crinkles up in a smile as he sits down next to Jin. "She could probably take me, so I don't have to worry about hurting her."

Jin tells him about the epileptic Alsatian and about the iguana room, and Kame is regretful his most interesting dog story involves the whole family catching fleas.

On Friday, they talked about how Kame's parents tried to grow strawberries in their garden for him, and how that was tough going with a dog. Jin told him about the Open Mic night and the beer accident with Frankie.

Kame can put names to faces now.

"Did you have a decent weekend?" he says, and he can't help smiling. Not 'a decent week' or anything like that.

Kame seems to get it, too. "I did. But it's nice to be back at work." And more than that, his look seems to say. "So whose hamster is it?" he asks then. "It wasn't there when I visited. Is it Yamashita-san's?"

"No," Jin says, and then he realizes it might have been better if he'd said yes. He shifts uncomfortably. But there's nothing for it. "It's Yuuya's."

Kame stills, but just for a moment. His tongue flicks over his lips, and then he produces a little smile. "I'll be on my best behaviour around it."

"You don't have to—" But that's stupid. Kame's not being literal. "I'm sure she'd have nothing but good things to report anyway," Jin says lamely. Kame smiles in a very concentrating way. They both know it's not about now. They look at the hamster, who doesn't even show.

"I hope Yuuya-san is all right?" Kame asks in a perfect distant-acquaintance voice. "With you watching the hamster, I hope it's not—"

"No, he's…" Kame doesn't really want to hear this, Jin's pretty sure. He just wants to prove he _can_ hear it. Or feels he should, or something like that. "He's away with a client, long weekend in the Alps. He almost didn't go, with Taka-chan…"

Kame gives that thorough consideration. "Long mountain weekend, huh?"

"Yeah. Well, if you like that sort of thing…"

"You don't?"

"A long weekend is… long."

Kame smiles quietly into his tea. His hands are still tight around the mug, like holding it is serious business.

"I'd go with you," Jin says, and then flushes. "I mean, I know you can't… I didn't mean… Oh, hell." But Kame is laughing too, and after the Yuuya thing that matters more than Jin's self-maiming sentences. "It would be more my thing with you," he tries again. "Hypothetically on hypothetical mountains. Can I have more tea?"

Kame pours him more tea, and offers him a piece of sweet persimmon yokan, and they slip back into the lazy mood while the hamster sleeps on on the dining table.

*~*~*

It takes a while before it starts to feel like evening, even though it was dark by the time Jin got into the taxi.

Eventually, because it's on his mind, Jin fills Kame in on what he knows about immediate hamstercare; he can almost watch Kame take notes in his head. They've moved to the table and put five sunflower seeds into the little hamster dish, and now they're waiting to see when it will finally start to eat.

Or even come out of its house. Jin's not asking for much.

They finish the pot, Kame has rolled up his shirt sleeves, and both of them have opened their top two buttons. All good and relaxed. Back to normal, Jin thinks. Friday it was urgent and needy after three weeks without, just like Jin had secretly expected; Kame just needed a little push, and then he was all slack and blissed out before they ever thought of food.

"So, I thought I'd cook this time," Kame says.

"You?" Jin blinks up at him, meets his eyes through thin golden bars. "Cook?"

"I _can_ cook, you know. I quite like it, sometimes, only I don't get much time."

Jin remembers. Cooking for colleagues on badly supplied film sets. Cooking for… Jin?

"That's great," he says. "What are you going to cook?"

Kame grins at him. "I got in plenty of spaghetti. Thought I couldn't go wrong with that."

"I'm so obvious…"

"And I got various things for on top, didn't know what was best."

"Sea urchin?" Jin says hopefully, and then he wishes he hadn't, because Kame looks troubled.

"I didn't get that," he says. "I'm sorry."

"I also like bolognaise," Jin says quickly. "Or natto, or mushroom, tuna, chicken, don't care! I like them all. Just with oil and some fish flakes is nice, too. I eat everything."

"Hm," Kame says thoughtfully. "Hmm." Then he smiles at Jin. "Let's get some sea urchin. The stuff I bought will keep, I promise. And there's a supermarket not far with a good fish counter. We can take the car."

"Are you sure? It's really not necessary," Jin protests, because Kame has enough stress and Jin doesn't want to be an extra reason.

"I think it would be fun." Kame smiles, so openly Jin has to believe him. Then Kame frowns down into the cage. "Unless we can't leave her…"

Jin considers. A sleeping hamster is not very likely to kill itself. "How long would we be?"

"Half an hour, three quarters tops. It's really not far, but it can get busy at the checkouts."

"It should be okay," Jin says hesitantly. "She's asleep, and I can't see how she's doing in there anyway."

Kame looks more uncertain than Jin would have expected, given that it's not his responsibility. "Think we could check?" he asks, and he looks embarrassed. "If we're careful? I think I'd really prefer not to kill Yuuya-san's hamster…"

Jin gives him a long look. He doesn't laugh, but he doesn't try to hide his amusement, either. "Okay," he says. "Okay, that is… Yuuya would appreciate that."

"Not funny," Kame says, with a cute grimace.

"Actually, I did that once already," Jin says. "Checked, you know? Before I came here. Because there was just nothing, no movement, and it was getting dark and… it was a bit spooky. And also it might have been dead. So, yeah."

"Whoo-ooo-oooh," Kame says very quietly, and Jin kicks him. Little jerk had better watch it.

When Kame looks up, his grin is hopeful. "So we can check?"

So Jin carefully removes the little roof again, Kame hovering over him like a nurse at an operation. It looks exactly the same as four hours ago, down to the little hole Jin dug in the bedding.

The hamster is still breathing. Kame smiles.

*~*~*

Jin feels like a thief sneaking in when they walk through the sliding doors and into the produce section, but since Kame's going to pay all proper and correct, that's probably just the idea of buying food with Kame in a supermarket. For cooking.

And maybe Kame's invisible-man get-up.

The place is upscale and Jin knows he wouldn't choose it for his stuff, but it's not a celebrity place either; a refined sort of ordinary. They're not the only guys, not like they would be in the afternoon. Jin fits right in with the managerial suits and occasional designer jeans, even if he doesn't feel like it. Kame glances around a little carefully until they're past the first shelves, but he said he comes here often, and he's not all that nervous.

Now he's examining an apple. "Do you think she might like that for breakfast?" he asks. Only he can't make up his mind between the different brands. The frown makes Jin suspect he's contemplating buying one of all seven, but then he just turns the current specimen over in his hand, probably so he doesn't accidentally give Taka-chan a slice from a defective apple.

Jin has no opinion on its relative quality, but he humours Kame and comments on the apple's smooth skin and probable firmness, because watching a be-hatted and be-sunglassed Kame buying fruit is nothing he's in a hurry to stop.

It's Kame who ends it, bagging the apple with a decisive flourish. "Better get a move on, can't keep Taka-chan waiting." He gives Jin a curious look as they wander down the aisle. "What kind of name is that, anyway?"

"It's, uh, short for Takahisa," Jin says.

"Takahisa as in…"

"Yeah."

"That's… evil."

Kame looks like he approves of evil, and Jin grins. "It is."

*~*~*

The fish counter is pretty impressive, and they come away with ten fat sea urchins sealed safely in tinfoil.

They split up for a moment because Kame wants to buy maple syrup for breakfast and Jin remembers that a place selling maple syrup and fresh sea urchin might also have his body lotion, and somehow he prefers pondering the toiletries shelf without Kame watching.

Jin never thought himself a guy for body lotion, but with how much he showers, it's become a necessity. He's found one that doesn't smell and doesn't feel sticky, some organic brand recommended by Satoshi. Usually he has to make a detour for a store that carries it. This one has a three-for-two offer and after some deliberation he ends up taking six, because it's not cheap. He just wishes he'd taken a basket.

Maybe it's good Kame didn't take one, though, because when Jin finds him in front of the imported delicatessen he's eyeing the various American things the same way he wondered about the apples. Kame is a dangerous shopper. Jin slows down so he can secretly watch Kame turn a honey bear upside down, observing the golden flow curiously.

"Personally I think bear abuse would be a weird way to start the morning," he announces himself finally, which makes Kame smile. Kame's eyes drop to Jin's load of organic beauty products, but Jin finds he's not embarrassed after all. He bought Kame a toothbrush, Kame can know what body lotion he uses.

"We should have taken a basket," is all Kame says, and Jin clutches his loot tighter and says it'll be okay.

Of course Kame picks the smaller, more expensive bottle of the two maple syrup brands. "Right, that's us," he says as he sticks it under his arm. The check-out they can see down the aisle is pretty busy. "Turn right," Kame says as they get to the end, "we can get through the express ones with what we've got."

They turn and—

There are girls, dozens of them, and high-pitched noises, and Jin just knows.

He doesn't even think, just changes course again, straight for the busy checkout, no looking back. He knows Kame is no longer with him and he hears the squealing grow louder.

That was close. His skin is prickling, delayed reaction or something, because… that was really fucking close.

Everyone is turning towards the noise now, so it's okay if he does so too. Kame is exactly where Jin left him. He's slung the apple over his shoulder mostly casually and is hanging back from the check-out queue like there's no hurry at all, but it's clear that he couldn't get away if he tried. Girls are pushing paper of all sizes, little gadgets and pens at him, and when Jin takes a quick look around to see whether security are planning to do anything about this anytime this year, he sees nothing but more girls coming to check what the excitement is about. Some of the cashiers are sneaking photos on their cell phones.

Oh boy.

Kame's holding up, though. Probably not the first time it's happened to him. He's refusing to sign anything, but he's talking to a couple of the girls, smiling all the time under his sunglasses and still not even attempting escape. For whatever reason he's pointing at the sea urchin pack.

Jin's line shuffles forward, enough so he can put his stuff on the conveyor. Older people around him are frowning on the noise the girls make, and when he turns again, four blue-uniformed men with white gloves have started pushing through the outer rings of the riot, and Jin breathes easier.

Okay, it could be worse, he figures as Kame nods at the security guards and smiles at the girls and says something that looks apologetic and involves the fish. At least they're not trying to tear off his clothes; and Kame seems not at all afraid.

The guards help. They don't even have to push, and slowly the girls start to fall back.

Not far, though, never far, and by the time Jin has paid for and bagged his lotion and turns for a last cautious look, Kame is talking to the security guards, bowing gratefully, throwing more comments to girls clutching magazines and t-shirts, and all around people are watching.

Jin hangs around a magazine rack at the front and pretends to read headlines about a monkey who can play table tennis until Kame has paid, too, pretending to be a normal person while surrounded by a mob. Looks like the guards will walk him to his car. Good.

Jin gets out his cell and makes sure it's unobtrusive, casual.

He's a little surprised when he sees Kame fish for his phone, he'd have expected to talk to voice-mail. "Hello," Jin hears through the phone, and there is a deafening scream he gets live and through technology.

"I'll just take a cab, don't worry about me," Jin says. "Meet you back at the apartment?"

"Yes, fine," Kame says. He doesn't hang up right away, but Jin does, he doesn't want to be suspicious, and he buys a pointless home improvement magazine and a pack of chewing gum, and walks slowly across the huge parking lot until Kame is safely in his car.

*~*~*

He gets an e-mail just as he's paying the driver, Kame saying he got home okay. Two minutes later Kame is opening the door for him, with an exhausted smile on his face and a damp hairline. They close the door again quickly, though it's not even necessary.

"I'm glad you found a taxi right away," Kame says.

Jin smiles. "They had a taxi rank. All those obaa-chans, and me."

Kame leans against the wall while Jin takes off his shoes.

"That was… something, huh?" Jin says when he straightens, trying to see if Kame is upset or regretful.

"Yeah," Kame says, like a deep sigh. "Unlucky."

"Were you all right? I don't think they noticed me, but…"

"It was fine. I've had that happen before. Most of them are really sweet. It's just, when you get them in swarms or when I'm…" He smiles sheepishly. Sneaking around with his escort. Yeah, Jin gets it. Kame takes another breath. "You were great. I'm sorry for the hassle. They all asked me about my fish."

Not about Jin. That's good.

"I want a drink," Kame declares when they head into the apartment. There's a towel dumped carelessly on the table next to the hamster cage; Kame probably dropped it there on his way to the door. "You want beer?"

"Beer would be great." Jin moves the towel, and— wait.

There's a hamster in the cage.

"Hamster!" he says intelligently. The hamster looks at him with little round black eyes.

"Any developments?" Kame asks, on his haunches in front of the fridge.

"You didn't see?"

"I just got here."

"Well, come. Look."

Kame comes to look with two beer bottles from which cold steam is rising, and hands one to Jin before dropping into his chair from before.

"Hello, Taka-chan," he says with a faint smile, in a voice that makes Jin feel warm inside.

"No flirting with the hamster," he says quickly, to Kame's disbelieving look.

Kame checks him out for a moment, then says, "I'll behave myself," with a sprawl that suggests he might just do no such thing. It's not a bad look on him at all.

"Taka-chan," Jin says to the hamster, which is sniffing the air in each of their directions in turn, "meet Kamenashi Kazuya. He goes by Kame and he got you a little present."

Kame takes a deep gulp of beer, and then he props up his elbow and leans his face against the cold bottle. His gaze is following Taka-chan as she disappears into a tunnel and comes out at the other end. "We should probably wait until she's eaten normal food before we give her anything fancy."

Jin checks the sunflower seeds, but all five of them are still there. He pings the water dispenser a few times with a fingernail, but she doesn't seem to be interested in that, either.

They go through their beers quickly; Kame points the living room and the kitchen out to the hamster, and gets a little giggly when he informs her of their great quest for an apple and how all the girls were curious and jealous about it. "But you're much prettier, so we brought it back for you," he tells her in confidence.

He looks young. Young and relieved. Sometimes Jin forgets he's just a guy in his twenties who likes beer and baseball, and who'll charm hamsters if somebody puts him up to it.

Taka-chan is a very generic brown hamster with cute generic ears. She's woken up more in the time they've sat here, and she's paid the food dish a visit even though she is still snubbing the sunflower seeds.

Kame empties his beer with a last long gulp. He looks at Jin in that way he only does when he's pretty relaxed, a little thoughtful, a little pleased; then he taps his bottle against his leg randomly. "I think I want another drink," he says. "And how about I start cooking?"

"You still want to?" As far as Jin's concerned, getting trapped in a mob is a get-out-of-cooking-free card if he's ever seen one. But Kame just raises his eyebrows.

"Of course. We had a _plan_."

*~*~*

The plan, Jin discovers, seems to involve Kame energetically manipulating a pot, three bowls, a frying pan, a bag of greenery, half a dozen condiments and ten sea urchins, while Jin sits on a chair with his second beer and watches. It's kind of fun, before it gets kind of boring, because Kame is also too absorbed to talk much.

In the end, Jin walks over to the kitchen counter – only for Kame to nudge him gently aside. "Olive oil," Kame says, as if that explains anything.

"I want to help."

"There's not much to do," Kame says, moving garlic around in the frying pan with one hand while tearing the bag of greenery open with his teeth and emptying it into the sink with the other.

"That why you look like you could do with six more arms?"

"It's all under control," Kame insists, and turns the water on decisively. So decisively that Jin jumps back from the sink before his whole shirt can get soaked.

"Damn," Kame says, and glares at him.

Jin laughs. "I'm sorry, am I messing up the foam block tower?"

Kame's confused face is completely adorable. Even more adorable when he gets it, and grins guiltily. And swears again when a splash of oil blisters out of the frying pan. He turns the heat down, or off, Jin's not sure, and wipes the back of his wrist on his forehead. "Sorry. I shall… mend my ways."

"So, can I wash those things?" Jin jumps at the chance. "I'm bored. I promise to wash them competently."

The look Kame gives him is a strange one and doesn't seem related to cooking at all. "I like competence," he says with an interesting gleam in his eyes. "I'll let you do the salad altogether, dressing and all."

Suddenly, half the bottles and jars are in front of Jin, as is the bowl and another bowl and a whisk.

He swallows. "Okay." He won't be intimidated by Kame's salad ingredients. "So what do I do?"

"Wash the rucola, spin-dry in…" Kame fishes a plastic thing out from a cupboard, " _this_ , then make dressing with that, that and that." He taps the containers in turn. "When you're ready, I'll tell you how."

When he's ready… Jin doesn't roll his eyes, just washes the leaves and spins them dutifully in the spin thing and two minutes later they're in the large bowl and he says meekly, "I am ready."

Perhaps too meekly. Kame gives him a suspicious look. "Are you making fun of me?"

Jin looks at him, with his apron and his sleeves rolled up and his hair in messy strands from the steam; the big chopping knife he seems to be unaware of holding.

"Absolutely not," he says. "But you're cute when you try to boss me around. And kind of hot when you cook."

Kame laughs, a little embarrassed. "Hot, huh?"

Okay, so maybe this wasn't the best time. "Anyway," Jin says quickly, "what do I do now?"

Kame glances at the pot with boiling pasta, at the frying pan with simmering garlic, and seems to decide it can do without his attention for two seconds. He steps closer to Jin, so close Jin can feel his warmth.

"One big spoon of vinegar," Kame says, running one finger of his knife-less hand down Jin's button line in a slow, smooth trail. Two fingers repeat the movement. "Two small ones of mustard." Then he grins and leans in until his breath is a whisper in Jin's ear. "Mix them up."

And he's gone, chopping open a sea urchin with an expert whack of the knife and spooning the contents into another bowl.

"Uh-huh." Clever. But he dares anyone to think entirely with their brain when Kame acts sexy and carefree like that. "One spoon vinegar, two spoons mustard," he says professionally, and nods. "Mixing."

"Small spoons," Kame reminds him with renewed seriousness.

"Small spoons," Jin says with his best straight face. "You got it."

He's done roughly when the timer beeps. For Kame, it's the signal to mix sea urchin and his garlic sauce together. "Three big spoons of olive oil," he calls to Jin, and Jin is a little regretful that Kame's hands are currently occupied.

"Mix?"

"Mix."

He's still mixing when Kame turns off the pasta, but gets out of the way as Kame heads for the sink with the pot and draining sieve.

"Thanks," Kame mumbles.

Jin whisks some more, until the dressing looks foamy and rich. Kame is putting the pasta on plates and adding the sauce, and now he's doing things with parsley.

"I think I'm done," Jin says, and Kame takes a step closer to look. He nods slowly, dips a chopstick in and licks. Smiles at Jin.

"Perfect," he says, and then his lips brush against Jin's, just for a moment.

*~*~*

Kame likes eating what he cooks. It's reassuring to see him tuck in and enjoy, instead of analyzing and working towards improvement like Jin secretly thought he might.

Jin asks, cautiously, about when Kame has to get up in the morning, because he's on his second helping and he doesn't want to risk another pot-belly incident. But Kame just says they have plenty of time and heaps more pasta on his plate, and that's great, because this stuff is delicious even without considering that Kame cooked it for him.

They put away quite a lot of beer, too, and Kame gets gigglier than usual, making up shamelessly silly stories about sea urchins and dating when you have all those spikes. Maybe it's the supermarket riot catching up with him after all; maybe he's just happy.

Maybe that's what he's like with escorts he can simply desire, where there's no weight of guilt.

Not a thought Jin meant to have.

He breathes deeply and smiles on. Kame is speculating about which colour will be most attractive in the underwater world, "do you think there's seasons or something?" while _eating_ the things whose first dates he's imagining, and it's such a mix of macabre and irresistible that Jin gets a lump in his throat.

He's not sure, but maybe Kame never cooked for Tatsuya.

Not a thought he meant to have either.

Shit.

He should stop there, because it's dumb and because it's dangerous, and what's he going to do if he prods and asks and then finds out the things that Tatsuya did better, or that Kame never got around to with Jin, what then? Or if he takes that risk and there's nothing _to_ find out, there's not even the thought that Kame does this for everyone to save Jin from his stupid, cliché… this thing that he's doing. Because he's doing it. No point fooling himself.

Kame tells him about prickly sea urchin parents, and then he starts wondering about how they can tell what gender they are and how you'll even know who you want to ask out to the reef. Jin hasn't seen anybody have so much fun talking about sea urchins.

He manages to say something to keep Kame going, and once Kame starts eyeing the remains of the sauce critically and wondering about breaking up relationships by eating one half of the team, and suddenly there's a mention of Bambi, he decides he doesn't care.

A year ago he was freezing on the streets. Alone out there and Subaru dead and nobody else, and Jin had nothing. Just day after day and dark corners and his face, and whatever it was worth to a passing stranger.

Even four months ago he had no friends, no confidence, and no idea if Ootomo wouldn't realize any day now that he was no good and kick him out.

This, here, is a good thing. It's the best thing he has in his life right now.

"Bambi's dad just took off," he says, because it's the first thing that comes into his head, "people never complain about that," and he watches Kame nod sombrely at a single spaghetti which he winds around and around and around his fork.

He's been miserable for so long, he thinks he can let himself be not miserable for a bit. If it goes away, he's not really much worse off than before.

*~*~*

The hamster has eaten. "All five," Jin says, feeling proud and light as he flops down and slumps on the rug in front of the table with the cage. His last beer went kind of fast. Kame crouches in front of the cage, studying it with very serious eyebrows and his mouth slightly open, like when he concentrates on something complicated.

Jin manages to knock him over while pretending to sway invitingly. He giggles. "Sorry."

Kame gives him a look. "You're not." But he simply adjusts his clothes for comfort, and stays where Jin put him.

The hamster ate. Another thing Jin can stop worrying about. Tomorrow they can see if she likes Kame's apple. Right now she's crawling a bit randomly in and out of tubes, and Kame is sprawling beer-heavy right next to him, not at all fussing or worrying that he gets in Jin's space.

Kame could get in his space all the time. Touch him when it's about nothing. Or maybe about getting to the cutlery drawer.

"What did I do? " Kame asks, but he's grinning. "Something's up, I can tell."

"Nothing. I had a great day."

"Me too." Kame nods at Taka-chan's improving curiosity level. "You did really well, I'd say."

"I am an accomplished watcher of hamsters," Jin acknowledges happily, but it's really Kame he's watching; Kame looking rumpled in his crazy expensive clothes and the way his eyes turn tiny when he's drunk and pleased with the world.

"It's nice to have Jin take care of you, isn't it," he's whispering to the hamster, and Jin's throat goes tight for no good reason. Taka-chan's nose twitches excitedly when Kame distracts her with a finger between the bars.

"Be careful," Jin says as she lifts one little paw. "She could bite you."

"I think I'd live," Kame grins sideways, but he stops the teasing.

"But I don't want her to."

Kame's eyes crinkle up more. He leans towards him and there's a kiss, not deep and not all that precise. Jin breathes in long and wriggles his toes.

Then Kame is touching him in a way he's never done before, not without an invitation; a brush of his fingers on Jin's forehead, over his cheeks, and Jin is glad he stopped worrying so he can just let him and not think, just feel.

Until it stops. "Sorry," Kame says, but on the Kame apology scale it's at least not such a terrible sorry. "I don't want to be weird. You probably didn't sign up for—"

"You're not," Jin says quickly, "I like it." He kisses Kame too, to make the point, only a brief dry nip but he feels it go deep, like there's room inside him suddenly that was still waiting.

"I'm wearing my bellybutton stud," he says once he's leaned back.

Kame needs a moment to catch up. Then he bites his lip, just a little. "Nice," he says.

"I could tell you liked it," Jin says. "Last time. When we were… when you were looking down at me."

Kame looks warm in the face and he ducks his head. "I guess I'm obvious." But it doesn't stop him from reaching out, pushing Jin's shirt up so he can see for himself.

It's a curious touch more than anything else, a little bit of tugging and a little bit of prodding. Jin lies back all the way to say it's okay; Kame didn't dare do that last time, even though Jin wore it for him and he thinks Kame got that, Kame found it hot.

At last Kame flattens his hand over Jin's belly and stretches out next to him on the rug. His head is still propped up on his hand when he looks down at Jin. "Thank you."

Jin just smiles. Once, a touch like that was a turn-on, and even now there's a wistful little pull in his stomach.

Kame traces his smile, and the line of his shirt, and Jin captures his hand and puts a kiss there right on Kame's fingertips, just because he wants to.

It makes Kame laugh, but Jin doesn't let go of his hand; he feels the lines and the relaxed strength that is Kame humouring him. He never thought he'd find it so warm and comforting.

"I don't like your cat."

Kame laughs again. "What?"

"It bites you."

"Just sometimes. It's not a big deal."

No scratches, no marks right now; Jin's checking. But that's not the point. "It's wrong. You feed her."

"I'll be more careful," Kame promises, still with that bemused face, "and you can tell her off next time." He links their fingers and the strength comes back; Jin feels it like a slow warm pulse, spreading through everything.

He lets himself go lax and awaiting, and Kame finds more places for his chaste kisses, and his hand works slow magic under Jin's shirt. Jin could do this forever.

They move to the bed eventually, when innocent has somehow turned to hot before they noticed, when Jin is flushed and dishevelled, Kame's belt and fly undone.

Jin still spares a moment to carry the hamster behind Kame's bookshelf, out of sight of the bed. "Because that would be weird," he says, and Kame fervently agrees.


	39. Chapter 39

### Saturday 7 February

There's sunlight in Kame's head when he wakes in cool morning darkness; sunlight and peace and a warm clingy body.

He's been dreaming, a dream that makes him want to turn over and find what he's missing, wrap himself around it and whisper good mornings.

He doesn't, of course. He's much too careful. Midori is in insistent slumber when he tiptoes out of their bedroom half an hour before his alarm.

He likes the quiet in the bathroom. His head is still full with some hazy sensation, and this way he can keep it in for a bit, keep it close.

In the shower he turns on warm and gentle water, smiles when he thinks of Jin's careful settings. He's still hard from the night, and when he touches there the memories swim into focus, less easily shaken and maybe he doesn't have to, maybe he doesn't want to.

It feels good. Slow, and drowsy, secret enough with the touches in his mind and the warmth he woke up to. Jin's in the middle of it, smiling and squirming. Talking with his hands about whatever makes him happy, so _happy_ , and the urge goes so fast, so deep Kame stops the guilt and goes with it.

He's awake enough to know it's kind of funny that Jin's not even got his clothes off but then he's at the point where he doesn't care and he holds on to it, and it's not long before he comes, braced against the shower wall, panting under the spray. He can still see Jin, a real memory, the smile at something Kame did; the fuzzy glow in him shivery as it gets alone.

*~*~*

He should maybe not do that.

They have time for breakfast together, he and his wife, and he feels fresh and relaxed with his skin still tingling, the images fading but then catching up with him in sudden pulses.

It's rare for him to do this at home at all, two doors and a shout away from her. He's always felt it's more like cheating than his carefully arranged dates with men who don't take anything away from her.

So now Midori is smiling at him, and maybe he'd feel just as guilty if it had been generic thoughts about hard thrusting bodies and sweat and heat.

Maybe.

He pours them both more coffee and eats his toast.

"I may stay in town again next week," he says. "I have TV days on Tuesday and Wednesday, they could run long. And I kind of suspect Hamaguchi has something cooked up for me too."

He doesn't yet know if he'll have time to see Jin, but it would be nice. Also good if it stops him having odd fantasies in the shower. Not that he can complain about the gaps; he sees Jin a lot. Last week he adjusted the limit on that credit card, just in case.

"They're keeping you pretty busy," Midori says. "And you're not even promoting yet."

Kame stops, and stares; belatedly remembers to swallow and be cool because this is Midori, and she's probably just worrying about his workload or his feng shui, those kinds of things. He stayed at the apartment a lot long before he ever knew Jin.

"I could also come home," he says calmly, slowly. "I could come home more at night. The apartment is just convenient, that's all. Would you like that?"

Midori makes a face like he's suggested an evening of Noh theatre. "No, please don't worry. I know how you get. Just order decent food for yourself sometimes, okay?"

"I do," he says, "I promise," and when his next thought is of Jin kissing down his ribs it's even worse.

"Besides, when you were out on Wednesday I took the opportunity to introduce Enoki-chan and Watanabe-san to your home cinema equipment," she confesses. "That they in turn introduced me to a very fine-looking young actor in a pretty boring movie is totally incidental." She wriggles innocently, hiding her grin behind her coffee cup.

Kame smiles back. "So that's what the wine bottles were about?" A better husband might have asked sooner.

Midori gives him a quiet little look. "Yes. Well, we had great fun. And you should thank me for protecting your liquor cabinet with my _life_."

"Thank you," he says.

Midori laughs at him. Somehow it's never bad when she does that; never has been.

*~*~*

It's that he and Jin have all this catching up to do. That's how Kame explains it, how it makes perfect sense.

He's in his car on the way to the agency, relaxed because he knows Midori meant it. His only nervousness is the low level kind he always gets when he goes into the agency, and he knows how to deal with that. He'll be back home later, maybe take Midori out to dinner.

Just three days ago he had breakfast with Jin and a hamster. An early breakfast, because Kame had appointments. Jin buttered his toast like a sleepwalker and was utterly endearing.

Maybe Jin is still sleeping now. Fridays are… Jin has work.

He still wonders if he's asking things of Jin that make Jin uncomfortable. If later, when he's by himself, Jin thinks with distaste about how Kame behaves with him.

Because Kame forgets. Because the money happens somewhere else and when Jin is happy like that, it's hard to remember he shouldn't pet him in passing, or kiss him goodbye when Kame goes to work.

Though Jin started that one. Kame just didn't give it up again. It makes the whole day different.

So maybe next week, Tuesday or Wednesday. Right now he's worried about Midori feeling neglected but that's just the way the question surprised him, he'll have more perspective tomorrow.

And here he is, at work, which he does a lot and always did, and if he sees Jin more often… it's that they're catching up.

He has to wait for Hamaguchi, who is in a conference. He accepts coffee from the receptionist and asks her about the new pieces of Western art hanging on the light blue walls.

The receptionist is a tiny woman in her forties, and Kame has seen her chew out messengers and cheeky interns, but she's melted into smiling bliss by the time Hamaguchi shows up and he's let into the lair of austerity. Kame isn't sure if it's his flirting or that he noticed the picture of her new grandchild, but it's nicely reassuring either way. It's a cute baby too, as babies go.

"I'm sorry for the wait," Hamaguchi starts. "A Saturday morning shouldn't be this busy." She smiles, though, like the idea that she'd rather be in some mall or at a beautician's is a funny joke.

"I haven't been waiting long, it's not a problem," Kame says as he sits down. "And it's always nice to have a straightforward offer."

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to take a break after all these sword lessons. But I thought this one might interest you."

It's a revenge drama, she tells him. The character he's meant to play is older again, about to turn thirty, and he has been a cook for fourteen years. Now he wants to go after the son of his parents' killer.

"It's not a villain," she concedes with a thoughtful tilt of her head. "But I thought a layered character like that might interest you."

It certainly does. He skims lines and flips through pivotal scenes while she sits and just gives him the time. There's the love interest, of course, and maybe three episodes down the road she'll turn out to be his nemesis's sister. The nemesis has good stuff, too.

Somewhere in the third act there's a scene so potentially gory and unsettling, he just knows Jin would hide behind the couch.

"It looks promising," Hamaguchi remarks, leaning back in her bossy chair in that way that made him feel dismissed when he was younger, until he figured out it was just her version of a fistpump. "You'll like the producer."

Kame flips back for the note on top; Haga Jirou. They've never worked together, but Kame has heard of him, he's got a whole string of successful productions to his name.

"I'm definitely interested," he says, and she actually grins.

"I'm very glad. I had to wrestle KE's Nakano for it."

"Oh, is that how it works?" he asks, though he has no idea whose agent she's talking about.

"Yes, they make us all get in a cage and throw the spring dramas down from the top."

"I was wondering." He doesn't add he wouldn't want to get between her and something she wants. With cage wrestling in the mix it would probably insult her femininity. "Anyone else they have in mind already?"

She shakes her head slowly and tells him the first focus is, naturally, the lead.

He flips through the pages again and gets stuck on a scene involving scallops and white wine. Even in plain writing it sounds appealing.

Poor guy, giving up a happy cook existence. Fourteen years of scallops and he trades it in for things with knives.

"Well, it's not like people just forget something like that," Hamaguchi shrugs when he wonders out loud. She'd probably know. They never do in dramas.

*~*~*

So that was a good start to the weekend. He's got his photocopy of the script and he'll show it to Midori later, he's sure she'll like it too. And on the way home he goes shopping.

He picks the kind of place where he doesn't have to worry about keeping his collar up and his sunglasses on. It's fun like it hasn't been in a while, trying on different shirts and coats he doesn't really need and letting an excited shop assistant with excited fluttery hands fuss over him.

What he buys is always on the safe side, of course, but that doesn't keep him from enjoying nice fabrics and understated designer accents; cuts that make him look taller than he is and colours that contrast with the dark hair.

He likes looking good, and when he's got someone he likes to please he feels a little less vain and a little less silly.

He picks up a novelty designer tie that has little soccer balls on it and smiles when he imagines Jin laughing. He knows he'd wimp out on wearing it in the end even if he bought it, but it's a pleasant thought anyway.

Only now he has to convince the shop assistant he's really not into the golf and sailing versions.

Making the fans happy is a different exercise. He cares about dressing well, of course, likes it when the pictures turn out satisfactory. But that's work, and part of what he's good at. Nothing at all like a slow look from Jin, that sharp little moment when Jin realizes that Kame looks good for him.

Jin wouldn't have to find him attractive. Not with all the chances for comparison, and when Jin is so good-looking himself, and certainly not after what happened between them.

It's there, while he's facing a mirror blazing red with a ridiculously priced shirt, that it comes back from somewhere deep down, under the smiles and the dreams, under stolen moments that couldn't get any better or closer, and he sees Jin going blank and dead beneath his anger, Jin's shoulders pressed low into the bed, Jin wet—

No. That part is over. It's _over_.

Jin wouldn't be with him like this if it weren't.

Kame takes two shirts he liked and a black jacket with… pockets he thinks. Says he is done, smiles for the shop assistant and thanks him, as he always would. Buy, smile, go home. Don't think of it.

How can Jin be like that with him? Let Kame indulge himself and act like they are boyfriends?

He never managed to reach an answer, but then he never liked the questions, either.

So he pays. The jacket is expensive. Could maybe pay a normal person's rent, if Kame knew anything about normal people anymore.

Jin is… what Kame pays, it could pay for a lot.

A lot.

Kame grabs his bags and fumbles his sunglasses on, pulling in his head.

There's nothing dangerous about being flattered. Nothing underhanded about an escort perfecting his service with ego stroking and guessing that a client will like personal truths and teasing rib counts. It doesn't even have to be some sort of joke.

Nothing one needs to worry about. At worst it's a job. A job well done, maybe weirdly so, with so much history there and plenty of room for a grudge.

Kame would carry a grudge. Most people would. Why Jin doesn't, why Jin would let him—

Why would he even _like_ him?

It takes him all the way back to his car to remember that Jin's a crappy liar. That Jin turned down all the money from a golden shower. That Jin brought him a hamster.

And even if he doesn't know and can't ask and can't demand an answer, there's no reason to be hiding in a parking garage with his chest tight and his heart thumping like he's jumped out of the way of a subway car.

 

### Monday 9 February

Jin lights a cigarette as he leaves the hotel. There's something about Ishida's come… he doesn't want to speculate. At any rate, the sharp nicotine burn down his throat deals with it quickly.

And at least Ishida picked a hotel closer to home this time. On his last trip, he was inspecting shops all the way out in Akabane and that's where his hotel was, but this one is only a dozen bus stops from Jin's part of town, no changes, and somewhere during the afterglow chit-chat Jin realized that if he rushed a little, he'd still manage to catch the nine-fifty-five.

Two blocks down, and he can see the queue, and he made it. The bus pulls up just as he gets there, and he stubs out the cigarette, smiles to himself.

Easy money, easy night, and he'll have time for a nice bath before he tries to write some music.

*~*~*

It's not his normal bus stop; different line, different street, but still less than ten minutes from his apartment and the streets are well lit. It's not too cold a night. He walks fast but there's no reason to rush.

It's been a light day and still profitable, just the way he likes it. He had a relaxation at the club earlier, the usual Monday husbands showing up right on time. Then he got Shota to help him with the make-up because he's still not great at that. Ishida himself is quick and to the point and Jin's used to the way he likes to watch him, just switches off.

Tomorrow he's seeing Kame again, where he doesn't even want to switch off; where it gives him a funny buzz to know Kame likes what he sees. Where he gets paid to have a nice evening.

Taka-chan is back with Yuuya, and Jin's not going to ever tell him where she hung out.

And then it's going to be Wednesday and the banker, and an early knock-off if he wants, and then his day off. Until Friday, he knows exactly what's waiting for him.

He doesn't care about where he is in the ranking, but having things all under control like the top guys is kind of cool.

"Hey! Jin!"

Is that Tomo? He stops and looks left down the intersection, the bar's that way, and yeah, it's Tomo all right, waving a bit, and Jin stops and waves back. "Hey there."

It's okay, he tells himself, he's wearing the suit but he's coming from work, waiters have to be well-dressed, too, and he did say it was a classy place.

"Early night?" he asks Tomo, and Tomo nods with a little frown. He's hunched up in his much-loved denim jacket, hands stuffed into the pockets.

"The volleyball team didn't show up, and Monday's so dead otherwise, there was no point staying open. You?"

"Yeah," Jin says, "Got out early, too. Light night."

And he falls silent because Tomo's looked at him properly for the first time and hasn't stopped looking and he's not looking at the suit.

Oh fuck.

"Wow," Tomo says. "You… uh." He raises a hand and Jin's not sure where it's going but he can't move; but after a helpless little twirl of his finger, Tomo drops it again. "It's pretty—"

Jin bites his lip.

"It's _pretty_ ," Tomo says, almost like he doesn't want to. It could be the streetlights, but Jin thinks he's blushing. Jin isn't, he knows that, too, can feel it in the way he can't breathe. Can't talk, either, and Tomo's giving him a look like he's just noticed that, stops staring at him and takes a step back. "It's none of my business," he says, with that quick smile Jin knows. "Chill."

Jin can just about stop himself from grabbing his arm so he doesn't move further away.

"Can we talk?" he manages.

"It's no big deal," Tomo says, "really. It's… some host club, right? Don't worry, I'm not freaking."

Host club. He could say that. Tomo would probably like him to, and he'd trust him, and wouldn't freak.

Jin's so sick of this.

"Not a host club," he says. "Can we talk somewhere _not here_?"

"Okay," Tomo says quickly, "sure, okay. Your place?"

Jin nods. "If that's okay. I have beer."

"Beer," Tomo says, "sounds good."

*~*~*

They talk about the weather on the endless five-minute walk to Jin's apartment, and it's one of the most bizarre things Jin's ever done. Somehow chaos theory and butterflies in the tropics have been mentioned by the time Jin unlocks his door, and then he is grateful to Tomo for holding up both sides of their weird conversation while Jin manages not to run into the bathroom and scrub it all off, and instead gets the beers and opens them and hands over a bottle, and they sit.

Jin makes himself unthreatening in his corner of the couch. "Not a host club," he says. "A sex club." And then, because he really doesn't want to leave room for misunderstandings and he doesn't want to say it more than once, he adds, "I have sex with guys. For money."

Tomo is chewing on his bottom lip, mulling that over. No doubt he knows the word for people like Jin.

"So that's… your job?" he says in the end.

"Yeah. Not a waiter. I'm sorry."

He can move out of this area. He wanted to move anyway. It can't be that hard to find a place.

"So the…" Tomo moves his bottle in a vague circle to indicate Jin's outfit, Jin's appearance. "You were working earlier?"

"Yeah." So many things he could say, like how he doesn't always wear make-up, or washes it off, and this was just bad luck, but he knows none of that's important. What's important is how Tomo is sitting there with his untouched beer, looking at him with this little frown, and thinking. Jin wonders what he's seeing when he looks at him now; if he's picturing him with a cock in his mouth, or with his ass up for some guy, or if he's running through all the possibilities one by one because this seems to take forever, and Jin's beer starts to feel sweaty and warm in his hands.

"Right, okay," Tomo says. And he finally drinks from his bottle.

Jin doesn't quite dare yet.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to lie, just… well, okay, I meant to lie about it. Sorry."

"No, that's… that's okay, I get that," Tomo says. "I guess I'd lie, too."

"Yeah…" Who wouldn't, after all.

"I won't tell anyone," Tomo offers. "If you're worried about that."

"Yeah, thank you," Jin says stupidly. He didn't think Tomo would do that, anyway. But it's polite to say thank you. "But—"

 _Are we cool?_ He doesn't know how to ask that or whether, if he asks, the answer will mean much.

Tomo is looking at him again. Looking at his mouth with the lip gloss Jin had forgotten about, and who knows where it takes him in his head. And everything else still seems so normal, Tomo in one of his faded bar t-shirts on Jin's couch, with beer.

Tomo starts. "Oh god, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It's probably normal."

"It's fucking rude."

Jin shrugs. He's used to it. Part of the job, and the job caught up with him tonight.

"Drink your beer," Tomo says.

"What?"

"Beer. Meant for drinking," Tomo says patiently. "Yours is getting warm and flat."

Jin has to laugh, but it doesn't last. He takes a sip to appease the guy who knows about beer. "Better?"

Tomo's smiling. "Watch me." He tilts the bottle over his mouth and takes three… five… six deep gulps. Then he points at Jin. "Now you."

Okay. If that's what Tomo wants right now… okay. Jin empties his bottle and raises his eyebrows pointedly.

Tomo grins. "Be like that." He drains the last of his bottle, too. "I just think sometimes… beer helps," he says more seriously. "Like… me, I'm not really sure what to say right now. It's all kind of unexpected. And you – you're not saying much of anything at all. So that's not helpful. Therefore, beer."

"I don't know what I can say, really. There's not much to say, and I don't want to make it worse." It feels good to admit at least that much.

Tomo gives him a long look. "I bet there's a lot to say." But then he frowns. "I feel like I need an etiquette book, though. I mean, I… want to ask stuff, but do you just not want to talk about it? And I don't know how to ask anything without sounding like a jerk."

"You're still here," Jin says. His voice is off pitch suddenly and embarrassing. "So you're not a jerk. Ask what you like."

He's slowly starting to feel things again, in a blurry sort of way. And he's grateful, and nervous, and ashamed, and maybe nuts because he kind of wants the questions.

"Okay, right," Tomo says, and Jin gets them more beer. "So it's… what kind of place is it, where you work? Is it okay?"

"It's pretty exclusive. Not everybody can get in, and it's expensive, and people come for a good night out, not just sex. So the wh— workers get treated pretty well, and we have to be okay just talking and making the clients feel relaxed. For the first couple of months I was afraid I'd get sacked because I wasn't good enough." Weird, how that's just a memory now, how it seems so long ago since he last worried about that.

Tomo's smiling, like the universe has become familiar again. "Yeah," he says, as he seems to remember the many ways Jin sucks at small talk, "I didn't think that would be your kind of thing." He picks at a frayed end at the toe of his sock. "So it's a bit like a host club after all?"

"Yeah, only eventually the guys want sex, anyway." Jin only thinks for a moment before he decides to add, "That can be the easy part."

"You don't mind it?" The sock is forgotten, Tomo's looking straight at Jin, looking like he wants to _know_. "I mean, you don't have to say you do, it's okay if you don't. It's better if you don't. Just, you know."

"I mind." That's important, no matter what Tomo thinks. "Just, it becomes kind of normal after a while, and then it just kind of… is. I've learned not to let it get to me much."

Tomo seems not exactly reassured. Maybe Jin said it wrong; maybe Tomo's wondering now how many guys you can do it with in a day, one after the other until it is normal, and Jin holds his breath so he doesn't panic and babble and say things Tomo wouldn't want to know.

"How did you end up there, anyway?"

"The manager picked me up in Shinjuku." He catches Tomo's puzzled look and adds, "I was sleeping rough, doing street. My folks kicked me out and my boyfriend left and I didn't have a job or a place to stay. Long story."

There's a pause. Tomo's picking at his sock again, but he's looking at Jin. "That sounds horrible," he says.

Jin shrugs again. It's neither here nor there now.

"And this… it pays well, at least?"

"Depends a bit on how much people like you, and what you do. If you're up for anything or if you have limits. But yeah, it pays well."

"Probably better than my three jobs taken together."

"I'm afraid so." Jin feels a bit guilty about that.

"Hey, but that's only fair," Tomo says instantly. "Not a lot of guys would even do that, so it makes sense it's expensive." He stops with a blink. "Sorry. That sounded weird. I didn't mean it like—"

"It's okay," Jin says quickly. "I know, okay? I think you're right." He doesn't mention the street, and how little it took. In general Tomo's right. Because Tomo's thinking and he's trying to understand.

"Shitty jobs, all shitty in different ways," Tomo concludes, and that… that sounds almost cool to Jin. "And I guess those rich guys wouldn't want just any plain old guy."

"They're pretty plain old guys themselves, mostly." Jin doesn't know why that suddenly seems funny. Maybe it's the beer.

Tomo scrunches up his face. "I don't think I needed that picture," he says. "Is it pretty disgusting?"

"Not as bad as street," Jin says quickly. "I mean, they're usually clean and stuff. And some are even fairly young. Just depends, really."

And then there's Kame who seems as young as Jin sometimes, and other times so much more older, until the next crazy idea chases the mood away or Jin manages to make him stop thinking.

"Is that how you know those two guys at the bar?" Tomo says, and Jin sprays his mouthful of beer over the couch between them.

He's coughing, and waving 'No' with his hand, and he can't talk and maybe that's a good thing because that gives him time to think. Tomo has dashed to the kitchen for some paper towels. Jin stands licking beer off his hands and tries not to touch his suit and tries to _think_ , damn it. And then he laughs.

"Look at me," he says, and he stands still for Tomo to take it all in again, the suit and the hair and the eyeshadow and lip gloss. "This is how I dress for clients. Grubby jeans don't really cut it. And no sane whore lets a client in his private space."

He waits. Half a lie, for Kame's sake, and he hopes it'll work and he won't have to tell a whole one.

Tomo nods, wet paper towels bunched up in his hand until Jin takes them off him. "Yeah, that makes sense. I guess you don't really want to make friends with those sorts of people."

They wash their hands one after the other at the sink, and Tomo says he knows some miracle stuff to spray on the stains on the couch.

"It's not like that," Jin finally says. He needed to think about it, about what to say, whether to say anything. "Not always, anyway. These guys, they have their reasons too. And some are really okay. Even nice. It's just dangerous, letting them get too close."

And knowing that it's dangerous doesn't make a blind bit of difference.

Tomo nods like he gets it, frowns like he finds it all kind of sad.

"It's all about the money," Jin says. "That's the whole point, getting the money and getting out. The rest isn't important."

"You've got a plan?"

"I didn't when I got into it, I just worked enough to get by, but I've got one now. I'm saving up, and at the club I can make enough in a year or two that I'll be able to get out, pay my way through an apprenticeship, keep a cheap apartment, and still have fallback money if a real job doesn't work out right away. I'm not going on the street again."

Tomo's looking around; eyes travelling over the shiny furniture, the soft clean carpet, the tone-in-tone concept. "That why you want out of here and into something cheaper? To save money?"

"That, and also, this belongs to the club. When I quit, I can't stay here."

"Right." Tomo looks around with this new knowledge just like Kame did. Then he nods solemnly. "I'll remind those people I asked. I didn't realize it was that urgent, with this being a nice place and all."

Jin has to smile. He's glad he can. "Soon would be great," he confesses.

Tomo tells him he delivered groceries for a family who had moved and the wife tried to talk him into taking back the produce because somehow they'd managed to forget their fridge. Just a story from his job, like always. "But their apartment would be too big for you, even if it was too small for them."

He's got deliveries early tomorrow too, not that he shows any sign of moving. "Lots of little loads," he says, "and then I'm hitting the METRO for the bar, we're running low on paper towels and stuff again." He gives Jin a speculating sideways look. "You know, I should take you there next time. You can get your instant ramen even cheaper, and some other stuff, too." He grins. "Save up money faster."

Jin grins back. "That would be extra cool."

Tomo seems very pleased with that plan.

Jin's body feels like a bag of rice when he slumps back in the corner and thinks giddily how he called this a light day. "You know what?" he says. Tomo waggles his eyebrows at him, only he kind of sucks at that, which is also funny. "Nobody knows this," Jin says. "Like, nobody."

"Knows… what your work is?"

"That I'm a whore." He giggles when Tomo frowns. Maybe he should stop drinking.

"You should stop calling yourself that. It's not a nice word," Tomo says.

"Not a nice job," Jin shrugs. "But anyway, not my point. Nobody knows except you. Well, and the clients, but they don't know me, my real life. Most of them only know the… me when I work. And nobody who knew me first knows about the work. Just you."

"Really?" Tomo thinks for a moment, and laughs a little. "And I think I even would have bought the host thing, until you went all big secret on me."

"But I'm glad," Jin says. "I'm glad somebody knows, and I'm glad it's you."

Tomo smiles. "I'm glad, too. And I won't be weird about it. Can I have more beer?"


	40. Chapter 40

### Friday 13 February

"So how about it?"

Half an hour ago he was just some diamond trader. Not tall. Decent hygiene. Strong hands that directed him around. They're quiet now, folded on the back of the chair that has Jin's clothes on it, waiting.

Jin can smell him everywhere, on himself from the fucking and from where he's standing and in the air, which Jin's breathing in too fast. Too fast. He has to be firm.

"The arrangement was one," he says. "I'm sorry."

His phone is in his jacket, which is on that chair, which he can't get to, and even if he could he wouldn't dare take his eyes off them.

They're not moving. That's good.

"Come on," the client cajoles. His client. The one he had a deal with. "We're going to pay you extra. Always meant to. Just a little change from the original plan. Loosen up a bit." He's naked like Jin but he doesn't look it so much. Not part of the _show_ like Jin is for the other two.

Those chuckle. Same age as the diamond guy, but Jin's never seen them before. They've seen him, though, bright and clear through that fucking creepy window that was bad enough when Jin just thought it was a mirror, with the client turning him this way and that for a fucking better view.

He'd wonder who builds his bedroom like that, except maybe he'll wonder later, when the glass isn't cold against his back and the door too far away.

He shakes his head. "No. It's not part of the contract." He feels sick, and he doesn't know why his head feels so weird because he didn't drink anything, or eat anything, they didn't _drug_ him like that guy with Danny.

He can get out of here.

Three. They are three, not five, and Ootomo knows where he is.

Three is enough when it comes to it and Ootomo's not expecting his call for another half hour and that's enough too. Plenty enough.

"Hey," diamond guy says, "the boss doesn't need to know. Means you'll get to keep the commission, right?" Inaba. That's his name. He has a name and the club knows it and Jin just needs to get to his phone.

"Maybe an extra two hundred thousand?" the tall guy in leather says. "Come on, that's not bad for just a few minutes. And one or three, it's all the same for you in the end. You sell it, we'd like it, deal?"

"Win-win," the smaller one says. He's got a hard-on he keeps rubbing through his pants.

They don't sound threatening. Jin keeps reminding himself. They're vulgar and demanding, but they've got names and fat bank accounts and they're not like guys who'll take it if he doesn't want to give it.

He hopes he's right.

"I'd like to leave, please," he says.

"We'd like to fuck you, please," the tall one says, and laughs. The others laugh, too, and maybe Jin was wrong.

The shorter one doesn't stop rubbing his crotch and he takes a step closer. "You're making us feel bad. We're just as pretty as him." A nod at Inaba. "You're turning us down for nothing, boy, treating us like some freaks. I don't like that."

"Also he's horny," tall guy says, laughing again. "Kind of your fault. You're one of the hotter shows we've had."

Inaba's the one who's supposed to know the rules, Jin can't talk to the other two. "I'm supposed to call my boss to tell him everything went well," he says. "This kind of thing will just get you blacklisted. Are you sure you want that?" He'll never see a Johnny's escort again anyway, but he doesn't need to know that, it's good if he doesn't know that yet.

The two guys find that funny. Crotch guy snorts. He's vile, and gross, only Jin can't think about that now. "Tokyo's full of pretty whores. You're not that special, show or not."

"I don't like your tone, boy," Inaba says. He doesn't find it funny.

"I'm sorry," Jin says calmly. Feels the mirror at his back. "But you know the rules."

"Not much of a party boy you got us there," tall guy says to Inaba, like it's some sort of joke and Jin wants him to _shut up_ because Inaba still doesn't find it funny, and he's coming around the chair now.

"I don't know where you get off acting like it's some huge _imposition_. Are we keeping you from something?" He's checking with his friends; embarrassed. Not good.

"Look," Jin says. Breathes. "I was supposed to call my boss five minutes ago and if I don't call him, he's going to send a _guy_ out here to look for me and I don't think you want that." He's never felt less shaky with a lie but that's all he's got, pretending there's not plenty of time.

"Another guy might be more accommodating," crotch guy leers. "Bring him on."

Jin just keeps his eyes on Inaba, on the jacket behind him.

"Bullshit," Inaba says. No embarrassment now. He's angry, and seems to like that better. "I've got you for two hours and you know it. So don't try messing me around."

Jin shakes his head again, tries to keep them all in sight. Three of them. He knows that's enough.

*~*~*

He's out.

There's cars rushing and the noise of trucks thundering over a bridge, and Jin feels like his ears are going to explode, but he's out.

His hands are shaking, and his phone is full of messy smeared sweat. He clutched it so hard. But nobody changed their minds.

Out of sight now, he thinks, and leans against the slab of concrete and keeps an eye out for the mothers with strollers and the old people pushing their shopping along, no idea where they're going or where the shops are along the busy street but that doesn't matter, strollers and mothers and slow old people are great.

He pushes speed dial one. It takes two rings and forever.

"Jin. You're early. How was it?"

"I told them I had to call you," he says, because that was important; is important.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes. I'm outside. They let me go."

"Who's they?"

"There was, like, a mirror, and then there were guys. But I told them I had to call you."

"Jin. Where are you?"

"I'm _outside_ ," he says. Suddenly he needs the concrete to lean against and he needs to swallow whatever it is that's choking him. "I don't know, I'm… I just left that house and then there were people and I walked around the corner. There's a bridge."

"Can you give me a street name? Anything? I can't send someone if I don't know where you are."

Send someone. Mikami and the car, no talking, no nobody, and somehow the thought of being bundled up and driven home while he's small and invisible in the backseat helps, unfreezes his brain with how much better it makes him feel.

"I think…" He has a look around. "There's a subway station in two hundred meters. I didn't walk very far from the house."

But maybe he doesn't want to wait around. And he's used to the subway, and he came in this way. How hard can it be?

"It's okay," he says, "I'll come in by myself."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Ootomo says. "What happened? Did you get hurt?"

Jin knows how to sound professional now, and like someone who can ride the subway by himself, he just has to remember the words. "I had to terminate the meeting," he says. "The encounter was over, but time wasn't up yet. The client violated the rules."

"Did he give you anything? Drugs?"

"No. I'm okay." He's okay. "I'm fine. It was just… I had to get out. There were three."

"Three? Three what?"

"It's okay, I'm fine. I'm just… look, the subway isn't far and I don't want to wait here, okay?"

There's a brief pause at the other end, then Ootomo says, "Okay."

So Jin rings off. Tries to remember what he meant to do. Oh yes, subway.

The phone buzzes and he jumps so hard, he almost drops it. When he can breathe again, it's just voice-mail, and he pushes the button.

Kame.

"Hi Jin. It's Kame. How are you? Okay, I know this is your voice-mail. I called to ask you, I'm having some convoluted scheduling changes that you don't even want to know about, only they mean I have a lot of free time today and I was wondering if you'd like to meet up. Just call me back if you have a moment."

Kame. He sounds so normal.

Jin stands still and just holds on… he flinches when it beeps on to a second message.

"Hi, it's me again. Sorry for harassing your mailbox. I hope you don't mind but I called the club and they told me you'd probably be in later, so… I figured I could spend my unexpected day off at the club. Just thought I'd tell you. I really hope I'll see you there. Bye."

Hope. The way Kame says that is like it's full of things Jin just can't untangle now. Good things.

Then he finally gets it. Kame's waiting at the club.

Right, subway. And he said he could do it.

He still doesn't let go of the phone.

*~*~*

He tries to walk into the station through the exit gate and okay, not so good, not great. Maybe people look, but he doesn't, doesn't want to talk. But maybe he should look, behind him, just to be sure. That there's nobody there.

Three, and they let him go, and he's okay. He just needs to be away from here, and when the direct line isn't due until five minutes later he takes a different one that's coming in, and he'll change at Tokyo Station.

He can think complex thoughts like this. He's okay, it's all good. Why couldn't he think like that earlier? Why couldn't he… say yes, say he needed to call Ootomo for authorization, get his cell no problem, and raise the alarm before they knew what he was doing.

That would have been smart. He wasn't smart, he was just lucky.

He stays squeezed into his corner and doesn't look at anyone, just listens for the station announcements as they come up.

If he thinks about it he'll _think_ about it, and he'll remember he's still got this guy on him and he'll remember he said _please_ and _sorry_ , and he'll hear how they found him funny. The fucking creepy mirror.

So he doesn't think about it.

He thinks of Kame at the club instead. Kame's schedule changes and Kame wanting to see him, and because nobody will fucking know, he puts the voice-mail on again and listens to the messages; first fucks it up and gets a week-old one from Ootomo at the start, but when he's got Kame he hunches lower in the seat and covers the phone with his hand.

It helps. Gives him some calm. By the time he changes trains he's not at risk of getting lost anymore.

The phone stays in his hand the rest of the ride.

*~*~*

Mikami's on the lookout for him when he gets to the back entrance. "You all right, Jin?"

"I'm fine," he says. Cigarette smell hangs in the air back here, and for the first time Jin thinks that might have been an idea for his hurried march club-ward. Might have helped.

"He's waiting for you," Mikami tells him, and Jin nods because that's fine, and Kame is waiting too and he can think about that. This time he doesn't have to keep a story straight in his head. Ootomo's on his side. That was against the rules. Jin just has to tell him.

Mikami walks him. Okay.

He's twice Jin's size, takes up half of the elevator. But that's different.

The elevator air smells familiar, detergent and air freshener, and it's weirdly comforting, and for the few seconds it takes to get a floor up, he closes his eyes.

Waits for the sinking moment when they stop.

Okay.

Jin almost walks into Mikami when he makes for Ootomo's office because Mikami has turned— that's the manager's office. Jin's heart sinks. He can talk to Ootomo, but Konoe… does it mean they're taking this seriously, or does it mean he's in trouble after all?

He was introduced to Konoe when he started; can't remember much of that. Too many new faces and a bare, clean office. He hasn't seen him since. Even when Kame… when Ootomo was angry with him, he didn't, everything's always gone through Ootomo.

He'd forgotten how tall Konoe is, and how he moves, decisive like a real company boss. Even when he's just getting up to greet Jin, and sitting down again in his wide office chair.

Jin takes a breath. This wasn't his fault. Clients don't get to do that. He's pretty sure.

And somehow the room gets bleaker when Mikami leaves, even though Jin knows for sure that he doesn't want him to hear about mirrors and being cornered by three guys.

"Ootomo-kun told me there was a problem with your client," Konoe starts. "Are you okay, Jin?"

"Yes," Jin says obediently. "I'm okay."

There's a pause and he realizes they're waiting. For him to elaborate, to explain, to… give them the whole story.

"There were three," he says. "Not from the start, Inaba-san… everything seemed normal, mostly, at the start. They came when we were done, they'd been watching. And then they came and they wanted more and they got mad when I said no. But I got out in the end."

It's weird how it's not easy, just to say it how it was. How there's so much in his head, and so much of it he doesn't want to talk about even when they're looking like they believe him, looking like they want to help.

"Three including Inaba, or Inaba plus three?" Konoe is making notes on a sheet.

"Three including."

"What exactly did they want?"

"Not sure, just… sex. Probably to fuck me. They offered two hundred thousand. Said you wouldn't have to know."

Konoe exchanges a glance with Ootomo. "Just to be clear, they didn't threaten you initially, when they offered to pay?"

Oh god.

Jin's brain is doing that weird thing again where it's urgent and foggy at the same time, just won't _work_ right. "No. But. They thought it was no big deal. But it wasn't the arrangement. I said no." They can say no to that. They can. Exactly stuff like that.

Another glance. "And you said the sex with Inaba was still normal."

"Yes." He clears his throat. "Yes."

"What happened?" Ootomo now. Ootomo's field, probably. Only he's gesturing vaguely. "Did you two…" Looking meaningful in that Ootomo-like way that they all mock. On normal days.

"Did he fuck you?" Konoe asks kindly.

"Yes."

"Was there anything weird about that?"

"No, nothing." No, no lie. "Nothing I thought about at the time. But he was interested in that mirror. Like, focused."

"The mirror?"

Jin nods. "He's got a whole set-up, the mirror's really a window. To a second room. I… I think he's done it before, too. Let them watch. I don't know which of the guys has dealt with him…"

"Danny and Jaejoong," Ootomo says quietly, to Konoe, who scribbles more. "But they had no complaints."

"What makes you think they watched before?"

Jin's wishing he hadn't mentioned that. Wishing he could stop thinking about the way Inaba moved him, the little ways he arranged his hair and touched his mouth for an audience, the way he made him come on the mirror.

"They said I gave a better show," he mumbles. "That's why they came in. They were kind of excited."

"Aroused?"

"Yeah."

"And that's when they offered you a different deal?"

Jin's staring at Konoe's desk. Some fine wood that's clean and sparkly. At least he never had to tell anybody about which order they took and how rusty the fence was and who started with the piss.

He wants home. Or out. He's not sure. Not a drink and not a cigarette but he wants something and he'll never get it.

"It's not an accusation, Jin," someone says, in a cultured voice that gets listened to. "This client was out of line. But I need all the details before I talk to him."

Jin blinks. Konoe is handling his pen and Ootomo is still wearing the bright blue beach shirt and sweating and looking understanding. They both do. Maybe he shouldn't have forgotten that.

"Yes. They offered money. I said no. They didn't like that. I said I had to call you but Inaba knew the two hours weren't up, and they didn't like that either."

"Did they threaten you?"

"They were angry. And they crowded me. They didn't threaten with words, just it… it didn't look like they'd back down." When Inaba called his bluff, angry for a reason now, and his buddies were sure Jin had no comeback left… until he found another lie, a better lie…

"But they backed down in the end?"

Jin nods. "I said there were secret phone calls. That we make to you. That Inaba doesn't know about. He believed that."

Konoe and Ootomo are exchanging glances, and Jin wonders what he said wrong.

It's Konoe who talks. "Jin, we're very relieved to hear you managed to talk your way out of such a threatening situation. But it's important for you to know that if you hadn't, you would still not be at fault. If you had no choice but to give in, and if you took money for it afterwards, that would still be their fault, not yours. I want you to know we wouldn't blame you."

That's… nice, Jin thinks. And has already opened his mouth to say 'thank you' or something like that, when it sinks in.

"No," he says quickly. "I mean, yes, I know that, I understand. But nothing happened. I just got very scared."

There's another brief pause, and by now they're freaking him out again. But Konoe smiles.

"That's good; I'm truly relieved. But please believe me, if something like it should ever happen, we would not hold you responsible. We would also not blame you if you found it too difficult to talk about, though we would hope that you'd trust us and help us protect you and your colleagues."

"Yeah," Jin says. "Sure."

"I think that we have enough information then," Konoe says. "Steps will of course be taken with regard to the client. Jin, is there anything you would like to add?"

Jin shakes his head. All he wants is out of here, stop talking about it or thinking about it, wash the guy off himself.

Konoe rises again. "Thank you very much, Jin. I'll take it from here. I've taken the liberty to ask Dr Kunikida to drop in for a quick examination to make sure you're totally okay, but after that, please feel free to take the rest of the night off. Forget about clients for an evening."

The _doctor_?

He doesn't want it. Not being naked. Not more questions that come with gloves and cotton swabs and maybe fucking _needles_ if the man feels like it, and _nothing happened_.

"But nothing happened!" he says. Too loud, for the manager, but at least nobody gets angry. "Nothing happened."

"I believe you. We'd just like to make sure. It won't take long, and Mikami will drive you home."

Home. Kame. "I don't want to go home." This is taking forever. Endless circles with nothing he didn't know an hour ago.

"Jin," Ootomo says, frowning. "That's admirable, but you're in no state. Do yourself a favour."

"No, I mean…" What does he mean? How can he say this? "A regular of mine is expecting me. I want to see him. To tell him. I don't want to— have a date. But I don't want to just not show up. When he thinks I'm coming."

Ootomo's eyes narrow. "Right. Kamenashi-sama called me," he says, and then nods at Konoe, who seems to find this fascinating.

"Are you sure you're up for it?" Konoe asks Jin.

"Yeah. Sure. It's just to talk, right? Nothing a shower and a smoke won't fix." He tries a smile. Okay, that was probably dumb. But they know about regulars, and he's even sticking around for the stupid doctor.

In the end they agree. Jin doesn't second-guess it.

Ootomo escorts him to the little examination room, postponing whatever managerial manager discussion they need to have about managing sick fucks with creepy friends. "If you want to stay home tomorrow," he says as he holds the door open, "do."

Jin nods. It's not every day that he finds Ootomo calming and solid, but he'll take what he can get.

*~*~*

There's needles, of course. And gloves, and swabs. Whatever. At least there's no talking.

His shower is quick and undramatic, and he's getting better at fixing himself up in a hurry if he has to, only it would help if his hands stopped shaking.

Okay, not as good as usual but good enough that Ootomo won't kick him out of the lounge, so it'll do, he'll be fine. He'll be fine once he's sitting with Kame and Kame tells him about his work or his house or his cat, he'll be able to forget about being trapped against that mirror, or stuck in the manager's office or in the doctor's tiny cubicle. He'll be fine, and he speeds up, shirt and pants and belt and shoelaces and it takes forever because of his hands, and he wonders if Kame would hold them still for him and that's when he knows he can't go in there like this.

He's got no control over himself. He'll be all over Kame, looking for… stuff that's stupid, stuff he'll never get, and no client should have to put up with that.

Cigarette. It'll only take five minutes, and he'll apologize for the smell but it's not like they'll be kissing, and if he says he needed one Kame will understand. Better than making a spectacle of himself and embarrassing them both.

It's just after six when he gets out back, and Mikami is there stubbing out his cigarette. He stops when he sees Jin, though, and pulls out his pack, holds it out to him.

Jin shakes his head and lifts the cigarette he brought down. "Thanks, though." He takes the light Mikami offers, and Mikami lights another one for himself.

The nicotine hits like heaven. Jin almost wants to cry.

"You okay now?" Mikami asks. "You kind of look like shit."

Jin's second drag turns into a little laugh. "That's not what you say to an escort before he hits the lounge."

"You're going in the lounge?" Mikami stares at him as if he's taking in Jin's outfit for the first time. "They make you go _back_?"

"I wanted to. I'm just meeting somebody, no more. Not—" Mikami doesn't like to think about the details of their job. "Not a real date."

Mikami nods, and gives him silence to fill if he wants to. When Jin does nothing with it, he says, "So who do you think will win the match?"

Of course, the Verdy friendly. If the day had gone to plan, he'd have been watching that at the bar tonight, maybe, because Tomo was just like normal yesterday and they seem to be okay.

"I kind of forgot about that," Jin admits. "With all the… stuff." Though the cigarette is starting to clear his brain a little.

"The commentators said the team was looking good," Mikami says. "They interviewed a couple of the players, sounded pretty bouncy. Seems like there's a new line-up."

"Cool," Jin says. "Would be cool if they scored a win."

"It'll be on the big screen inside, I'm pretty sure. Maybe you can watch it together."

"He's not really into soccer," Jin says with a smile. He tries to envisage Kame watching sportscasters talk about line-ups and injuries while he waits for Jin. Not likely, and…

Kame has been waiting for a long time. Maybe he no longer even thinks Jin is coming. Maybe he left, is leaving, or maybe he found somebody…

"Sorry," he says to Mikami, stubbing out his cigarette and sticking it in the trash bin. "I really… I have to get in there now. Sorry."

He walks as fast as he can without running.

*~*~*

He can't spot Kame from the door, and the place is busy. And maybe he's rude, but he tries not to be while moving as quickly has he can past clients and colleagues, trying not to make eye contact with anybody. And finally he spots Kame by the screen, in the last place he'd have looked for him, and with him—

It's Tatsuya.

They're smiling. Their wine glasses – red for Kame, white for Tatsuya – are almost empty, and Kame is saying something, turning more towards Tatsuya with his arm over the back of the couch, leaning in for some joke, some familiar… thing.

They're definitely not watching the soccer.

Jin stands and doesn't know what to do. What to do that he _can_ do, because what he can't do is go there and listen to Kame explain that he's really sorry, but Jin took so long and now unfortunately—

Kame has seen him, and is standing up. Jin can't do this. Kame is smiling. He doesn't look sorry.

It's no big deal for a client to switch between escorts, and it's normal, for Kame, to go with Tatsuya, who is elegant and refined and whose hair isn't a half-baked mess like Jin's is. How could he ever have thought it was good enough?

Kame frowns, and waves. So Jin has to go there. He manages not to knock into anybody.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," Kame says, bright like everything has turned out just wonderfully. "So you got my message?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I kept you waiting." Kame has no idea how sorry.

"I didn't mind waiting," Kame says. Tatsuya smiles at Jin. "And it's a really lazy day for me. Come join us? We were just talking, Tatsuya-san was keeping me company for a little while."

A little while. A little while. Jin thinks it through but this is what he said, and it sounds like… he waited, he really waited. For Jin.

Jin's starting to feel a bit light-headed.

The couch. Kame sits so there's room next to him, and Jin finally remembers to bow a little because Tatsuya is… Tatsuya. So that's important. He can actually see soccer commentary on the screen from here but he ignores it, because that's not important and what's most important is Kame, who waited.

"I'm glad you had time at all," Kame says, and it's great how happy he looks, it's like some warm fuzzy thing, high out of reach of the bad stuff, and oh, shit.

He'll have to explain. It felt easier in theory.

"I'm glad you waited," he says instead. "Really glad. And I was really happy when I got your message."

Kame's eyes linger on him briefly, but then he's looking around for a waiter. "Can I get you a drink? Whatever you like, don't be impressed by the wine party."

Tatsuya swirls his glass a little. "I'm not sure I would recommend this one anyway," he says, friendly to Jin but with a teasing look at Kame.

"You didn't like it after all?" Kame pouts, like he knows what the joke was. Jin doesn't. "You _could_ have ordered something else."

"Oh, it's perfectly drinkable. Only not really worth your money, _or_ the label."

"I'm sorry I insisted on trying something new," Kame says, half solemn and half laughing, before he turns to Jin. "What would you like?"

Beer. Mostly for familiarity. Maybe half a bottle of sake if he could, if he did that to wipe things out, but he doesn't and he can't. He's not sure, and then he looks at their glasses. The crazy expensive wine that Tatsuya knows isn't up to standard. Kame's red which is probably the one he drinks every single time when he comes here.

"I'll try what you're having," he says to Kame. "I'm sure that's good."

Kame doesn't take it as anything, just smiles. He deals with the waiter, and then he nods at Jin. "I was telling Tatsuya-san about the location shoot in Hokkaido."

This is friendlier territory. "About the shirtless actor icicles, or about the sandals?"

"The sandals, of course," Kame says. "I am so proud of myself."

Tatsuya giggles elegantly. "I tried those myself once," he confesses. "In a _slightly_ different context. I'm glad in retrospect I didn't have to wave a sword at the same time."

Kame hides his face. "I'm afraid to ask…"

Tatsuya's grin deepens. Like he's confiding something he wouldn't tell just anybody. It could be an act; everyone's better at that than Jin. "Just a bit of harmless geisha cosplay," he admits. "Long, long ago. I thought the hair didn't suit me."

Jin's never heard of that. Kame is laughing.

Tatsuya sips at his wine, and then there's a pause.

Maybe this is where Jin should say something, where it's his turn. Maybe he should find something to say.

Maybe right about now.

"How's filming?" he asks, and there comes the waiter, and Jin feels even stupider with his interrupted stupid question.

Turns out filming's over. Great. But Kame seems happy. Jin tries the wine too and finds it weird, like there's too much taste going on; but as long as he's drinking it sip by tiny sip they can sit here talking. He might even think of a smart thing to say at some point.

Tatsuya is fondling his glass in a way Jin knows. Build-up for leaving, and Jin's jittery with relief that he's no longer feeling on probation… and then he remembers.

Tatsuya is having a look around the room, mapping out his course, and Kame lets the distance between them grow and smiles at Jin like that's fine with him, and he doesn't _know_ yet.

It's not fair on Kame. Jin knows what Kame likes and regardless of what Jin wants he _can't_ , he couldn't. There's no way he'll get it up and then Kame will be _sad_ and that's not the kind of sex Kame likes to pay for. And it wouldn't be fair.

He clears his throat and then he has a sharp mouthful of the wine, which burns on the way down in a way wine never does. "Hey," he says under his breath. "Before… You should know." He lowers his head and his voice, and Kame gets him and leans in a bit, and Jin catches a tiny trace of how Kame smells under his clothes. It doesn't make saying it easier. "I'm not really up for…" He doesn't even know _how_ to say it. Until from somewhere, he remembers.

"I think I won't be much good." He knows Kame's looking at him but if Jin looks back, he'll just trip over his tongue. "For how you like it. With both of us together. I can't, tonight, I thought you should know. Before…"

"Oh," Kame says, and then, "that's fine." All light and perfectly-polite-client. Jin risks a look, and there's a smile which is also polite, and a little careful.

Jin turns his wine this way and that; nods; watches Tatsuya drink up and put his empty glass down.

Tatsuya smiles. He's really very good-looking, even if he wouldn't be Jin's type. "I think I'll leave you two alone now," he says. "Watch out for those special selection wines."

"I've learned my lesson," Kame replies. "I hope you have good evening."

Jin doesn't believe it… not until it's really only him and Kame on the wide leather couch. And Kame knows now.

"I'm sorry," Jin blurts out. "Just, I thought at least I should _say_ …"

"No, don't worry." Kame looks unfazed. "It's cool. We could just hang out. And talk. If that's okay with you."

Talk. Hang out. Jin nods, probably too quickly. "I'd like that very much."

This time Kame's smile isn't careful, it's like this is the best thing ever.

Kame's right. He doesn't know _how_ right. Jin wants to giggle, and the world feels tipsy and like it will be okay.

He's here, he's safe, doesn't have to let anyone else inside his body. And he gets to be with Kame. Now and then he might sneak a look at Tokyo Verdy defending their honour once more.

He focuses on his wine, breathing deeply like it's the first clear air in hours. Then he makes up his mind. "I don't really want wine," he admits. "Could I have some beer?" He doesn't even care about the waste.

He gets his beer, and a funny little tingle when Kame commandeers the rest of his wine and doesn't even pour it into his own glass.

For two guys hanging out and talking, they're a bit slow to get going, but it's the nice kind of slow, the warm kind. Jin feels the alcohol nipping at the edges of his mind, smoothing it over in a way that's good now. The beer is the right taste, and the couch is just for them, and Jin isn't really following the story about the cook and the scallops but still he could listen to it all night, he wouldn't trade this for anything.

He's staying right here.

 ***~*~* Kame**

Something's up.

Jin's happy to see him, and he indulges Kame's silly stories with little comments whenever Kame wonders if he's really listening. He smiles and he asks for beer. So that's all good.

Something's still up. Jin's still hunched in, and Kame has no clue what was so urgent about telling him Jin doesn't want a date.

"Fourteen years, huh?" Jin says, when it's gone quiet and Kame is wondering again.

"Yes. He started young."

Jin smiles again. His eyes are kind of glassy, after half a beer and two sips of wine, wine Jin didn't even want.

"Jin, are you okay?"

"What?" Jin's smile goes apologetic. "No, I'm fine. I'm…" He frowns as though he finds it difficult to figure out. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, fine. It's nothing." He's clutching his bottle with both hands. Kame's not even sure he knows he's doing it.

"Long day?" Kame tries.

"Yes," Jin says at once. "Long day, yeah."

"Would you prefer if I left? I can do—"

"No!"

This time it's Kame who blinks. And Jin's staring at him, biting his lip. "I'm sorry, I didn't… just, no, I don't want you to leave."

"Then I won't," Kame says slowly. "What's wrong?"

Two tight breaths, and then Jin simply gives in. "Bad date," he says, blinking down towards the table, staring at whatever. "Earlier. It was… it wasn't good." But then he faces Kame again. "But I'm fine, and I just need to forget about it, and I'm glad you're here."

Bad date.

Kame sits with his skin draining cold, and stares.

Jin is glad he's here?

"Uh, Kame?" Jin says uncertainly. "I'm okay, really."

"Are you sure?" It just rushes out, and it's fucking stupid. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather be at home, or somewhere?" Somewhere not with Kame.

"No," Jin says, frowning. "I'm sure, okay?"

Bad date.

Kame knows. People who tie Jin up. Grab his hair and push him around, and like it. People who like other things. Only he doesn't know.

"What happened?" he asks, as quietly as he can.

Jin's mouth goes tight, and he's pale.

People who like Jin's mouth.

Fuck.

"I just spent an hour in the office," Jin mumbles. "They had more questions than… than you can believe, and… I just want to hang out and talk. About other stuff. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Kame says immediately. "As long as you like."

Jin nods. "Don't want to go home yet. No distractions. Also, I'll be better on the subway in a few hours, it was a bit weird coming here."

All right. It sounds like Jin has a plan. Kame takes a deep breath and pushes back the images of Jin on a bad date, Jin with men who try to hurt him, because this isn't about the chill under his skin and the guilt in his head. He leans back more to give Jin space.

And he'll get Jin a cab when he's ready.

"Anyway, now you know all about my new series," he says. Distraction.

He feels Jin nodding right away. "Except the part where you're taking your shirt off."

"I'm afraid I don't. I just dress really badly." He doesn't think it would be good to mention the knives.

"I'm sure you'll make a thingie. Fashion statement. Set a trend." At last Jin's voice is calming down.

Pretty much right in front of them is the big screen. Kame only glanced at it occasionally, usually catching commercials, sometimes glimpses of a sports discussion. Turns out it's soccer. "Hey," he wonders, "is that an important game?"

Jin's smile twists up slowly, but it's real. "Depends. If we win it'll be totally important."

*~*~*

The soccer helps.

Apparently this is the club Jin has been supporting for years, and they don't suck nearly as much as people think, not that Kame's ever thought about it at all. They had a tricky season and now they're having a match that doesn't count, but it will help them anyway, and no, the keeper cannot pick the ball up like that even though Kame has always believed that's what keepers are for, using their hands.

He gets all this in stop-and-go gushes of varying coherence, and he understands about half of it, but he understands Jin is talking himself down.

He's easing up, knees stretching out, and he's illustrating his explanations with his hands while Kame keeps the drinks coming; more beer for Jin and shots of thirty-year-old Lagavulin Kame occasionally dumps into his leftover wine. It makes him feel useful somehow and like he can make this normal for them. Some kind of normal.

He drinks water. Now and then Jin moves on to a fresh bottle, and the waiter clears the three-quarters full ones away.

Now Jin is muttering insults at the referee, who didn't see some thing where a guy stood where he shouldn't have and scored a goal. People are shouting at each other on the screen, and two guys at the next table are exchanging expert opinions and boring their escorts.

Jin sighs. "They're totally going to break down now."

"I'm sorry," Kame says.

Jin sighs some more. "Not your fault. They lost a lot early in the season, and now they kind of stop fighting once they're behind."

"That's not good."

"No." Jin sounds tragic.

Somehow they're not really taking up two seats. Kame leans forward to at least sip at his whisky, and tries not to crowd Jin when he moves back. Jin smiles at him sideways and leans his head against the sofa, looking sleepy and dishevelled.

Distraction, Kame thinks, but he doesn't know what to say. He should have looked up some stuff on soccer.

"I'm not really drinking all those," Jin says suddenly, very quietly. "Sorry."

"I know." Kame smiles quickly. "Don't worry about it."

But Jin frowns. "I mean, they just go back," he confesses as if Kame's never figured out how the game works.

"I know," he repeats, and when Jin is still uncertain he adds, "I'm not drinking half of mine either."

"That doesn't make— oh." Now he seems undecided whether he wants to grin or cringe. "You're nuts. You don't have to do that."

"I'd rather blend in," Kame says. "Makes life easier all round."

"But it's—"

"So why is that guy wearing a headband? Is that part of the uniform, too?"

That does the trick; Jin almost rolls his eyes at him. "It's cause he's got long hair. And I guess it's another place to put a sponsorship logo."

Apparently there have been sponsorship issues, too, with a jinx that involved a horrible 2006 season from which the team is still recovering. Someone one table over catches Jin's assessment and rumbles agreement, and even though he's old and a client Jin smiles a little and nods, and then settles back next to Kame.

Under different circumstances, this would be a great way to spend an afternoon; like hanging out at a bar again, only this one is safe and Kame doesn't have to wear sunglasses.

"Jin-kun! I thought I might find you here," someone says; a large guy in his forties with a strident voice. He makes an apologetic face when Kame looks up too. "Oh, how terrible of me, I don't mean to interrupt you."

Jin looks startled and suddenly stiff, and Kame quickly shakes his head. "No, not at all," he says. "You're not interrupting anything. We're just watching the soccer." He gives Jin a smile. "Just hanging out." It takes a moment but eventually Jin smiles back.

"Ah, Jin-kun's in his element then," the man says approvingly.

Kame nods. "I'm getting a bit of an education."

The man laughs and points at the remaining chair. "Eda. Pleased to meet you. Mind if I join you then?"

"Of course not," Kame says. He'll be upping the soccer knowledge by a full hundred percent, which can't be wrong. "Kamenashi. May I buy you a drink?"

The man accepts and chooses bourbon. Kame is glad to have someone in his round who won't just be faking it.

"It's been a while, Jin-kun, hasn't it?"

Jin bows a little but says nothing.

"Ah, Verdy," the man sighs with a look at the screen. "They could do with a little motivation boost."

"I gather the referee isn't helpful in that respect," Kame says, hoping he picked that up right.

"Blaming the ref, huh?" Eda chuckles.

Jin seems to be absorbed in the match, keeping his eyes on the screen and not reacting, so Kame asks, "You are not a Verdy supporter, then?" He's moved away from Jin a bit; it's more respectful and Jin won't worry again because of mixed signals.

"Me? No, F.C. Tokyo man since it was founded."

"So these are your rivals?"

Eda swirls the ice cubes around in his bourbon. "They would be, if they could play decent soccer." He leans forward a bit to catch Jin's attention. "But I don't hold it against anybody, right, Jin-kun?"

Jin nods, once. "Right."

Eda leans a little closer to Kame. "He gets stressed when his team loses." The man seems to know a lot about Jin. "It's difficult to cheer him up afterwards."

There's a lot of noise suddenly, and someone knocks hard into the next table.

"Yes," Jin whispers beside Kame, smiling at the screen where the equalizer is announced, and clutching his beer. "Now go get them."

The goal gets replayed five times from three different angles, and Jin watches each recap as if it holds a deep unmissable secret.

"Nice comeback," Eda acknowledges. "Good if the boys at least put up some fight."

Jin doesn't agree or disagree, so Kame nods vaguely. Something's up again. The club got busier but it's far from rowdy, and Jin even smiled at some of the comments from other tables earlier.

Bad date. No wonder it lingers.

Eda is checking his watch. "So," he says. "You two don't have any plans?"

"No plans," Kame affirms, upbeat enough that Jin knows it's definitely all right.

"Watch the game," Jin adds with a grateful little smile; but then he turns straight back to watch the players wander aimlessly around the field while a couple of the whites are substituted for a couple of other ones. He's holding on to his beer this time, ignoring the fresh one on the table. He was more relaxed before the goals and the substitutions, was finally loosening up.

"Might I propose plans, then?" Eda says in a stage whisper, leaning in.

Jin swallows and when he looks at the man, his face is blank. What is going on?

"I'm sorry," Jin says, in a dead sort of voice. "I'm not up for… the usual. It's been a busy day."

Kame flushes and hopes nobody sees. It was bad enough when Jin had to say it to Kame, and the man should have seen that Jin isn't trying to attract custom. But at least it's cleared up now. He leans back with his drink and pretends he didn't witness this, to save Jin the additional embarrassment.

Eda laughs. "Okay, understandable. But we can be flexible. Leave that part out. Or you could relax _me_ this time."

It's normal, Kame reminds himself; negotiations with others present are commonplace here and Eda could hardly ask Kame to step out for a moment. But does he really think he needs to spell it out like that, and moreover, hasn't he ever heard of reading the atmosphere?

Kame sips at his drink and waits for Jin to say no, this isn't a good day…

"But we're watching the match." Jin's voice, and not quite steady and why doesn't he just _say no_ —

"Oh, after the match is fine by me," Eda says generously. "Wouldn't want to make you abandon your friend." Kame catches the last bit of Jin blinking at Eda before he shrinks, or nods, and stares at the screen, while Eda looks around for the waiter and asks if he can buy Kame's drink this time.

The bar noise is still there. Twenty-two guys are running around the screen without sound. Twenty-three. And a ball.

"I told Jin-kun they shouldn't have bought him," Eda chuckles. "But he insisted they were smart to do it and now look at him scoring goals. I guess a fan does know some things better, right?"

"Right," Kame says. What the fuck just happened?

Jin has forgotten he's a fan. Twenty-three guys and a ball and Jin looks completely blank, and small with the sofa stretching around him.

"I complained to Ootomo they're not showing enough of the league matches, but with all these baseball nuts around nobody will back me up."

Kame's not listening. He's watching Jin, who's pressing his lips into a smile.

"What do you think, Jin-kun? Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Nice," Jin says.

Eda laughs, like there's no worry in the world, and there's a look that Kame knows; a look that crawls over Jin and thinks about relaxations, and how can this guy not see that Jin can't deal with _any_ of this.

It's not going to happen.

Kame shifts forward in his seat. "Jin."

Jin turns to him instantly.

"I think I'm ready. Will you come to a room with me?"

Jin's eyes widen in puzzlement, but when Kame rises and says, "Come," Jin simply stands, and Kame takes his hand.

"Wait," Eda says, "didn't you say—"

"Sorry," Kame says with a short nod. "I hope you enjoy the rest of the match."

Then he smiles at Jin and tugs a little, and despite Jin's bewilderment they head for the concierge's desk. Kame's already breathing easier. In a few minutes they'll be out of here.

"But, Kame," Jin says urgently. "I told you, right? That I can't…"

"Yes, I got that. Don't worry about it." He hears himself sound sure and has no idea what he means, only that they need to be gone.

The concierge is helpful as always and Kame nods that suite two will be fine. When the man turns to program the key Jin gets really close.

"But, it's not going to be like you like it," he says, "that's what I meant." He looks stressed, and god, how could that guy ever _think_ …

Kame presses his hand, before finally letting it go. "I know what you meant."

"But a suite…"

"Let's just go, okay? You know I always take suites. I like them."

Jin can't argue with that, and finally stops protesting.

Kame turns back to the concierge, who gives no sign of having followed their exchange with interest. "Rest, please," he says, and though he feels Jin twitching beside him, he ignores it. It seems right, to get them as much space and as much time as possible. Worrying about what to do with it can wait until they're alone.

Jin's quiet in the elevator. He looks exhausted, and though the vacant look disappears once the doors are closed, there's still an uneasy line between his eyes.

Kame unlocks the suite and lets him step in first. It's fine while they kick their shoes off and turn the lights on soft the way they like it, and Kame gets them drinks from the bar. Then Jin stands there, with his bottle in his hands, turning it round and round.

"Where would you like us to be?" he says uncertainly, and that's when Kame notices he's stopped halfway between the couch and the bedroom.

And just like that, at least part of it becomes clear.

"Couch," he says, and lets himself fall on it hard enough to bounce, by way of physical punctuation. "I thought we'd watch the match?"

He pats the seat beside him a couple of times, until Jin believes him that he's seriously up for more soccer. Then he remembers belatedly that it would help to turn on the TV.

There, the guys in green and the guys in white, and the ball. That should help.

"Did we miss much?" he asks. The little counter in the corner says not, but who knows, with this game.

It gets Jin focusing, that worry line deepening. "I don't think so," he says. "I think… no."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Jin nods immediately. "I'm okay. This— this is good. Really."

Okay then. Kame can leave him in peace for a bit.

So they watch soccer. Kame still hopes that sometime during the endless squabbles back and forth across the same fifteen meters, he'll have some bright idea for what to do after.

Jin has stopped elaborating for him. Jin's staring, but maybe that's what he needs now. Maybe focusing on nothing but the soccer will bring back some of the mellow mood they had, before Kame asked that guy to sit.

For the first time he actually empties his glass, and the little buzz calms his nerves. Nobody's scoring on the screen and with Jin silent like that, Kame doesn't know if anyone is playing well or badly either. But maybe a steady game is good.

At some point he hears Jin hold his breath, but then it's nothing.

"Would you like some water too?" Kame asks, quietly, and Jin doesn't start.

He shakes his head slowly. "No. Thank you." Smiles a bit. He's got the beer in both hands again.

Kame leans back and decides to be as unobtrusive as possible.

Then suddenly everyone stops playing. Okay, that… is a break? They've got the volume on low and maybe that was a mistake, maybe then he wouldn't have to ask. He's not sure how cute Jin finds his stupid questions anymore.

Jin gives him a look, but doesn't say anything. Kame gives it half a minute but then he ventures, "They're on a break, right?"

Jin doesn't laugh at him. Jin looks like he weighs that question carefully. "Yes, this is half-time," he says then. "They'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"Cool," Kame nods.

"But we don't have to finish it."

"I thought you were enjoying it," Kame says, and thinks these smiles are weird, like Jin can see something he doesn't, something far away.

"It's not so important."

Kame thinks, and changes track. Enough people have been pushy with Jin today, and maybe he _doesn't_ know what's best here. "Whatever you like, really," he says. "We can turn it off, if you'd prefer that."

Jin nods earnestly. "Maybe that would be better," he says, sitting still. Kame deals with the TV, hoping they'll find something else that works for Jin, and sits back, and then Jin's hand lands on his thigh.

"Hey!" Kame says, and then he brings his voice down from the stratosphere and repeats, "Hey. That's not what I meant."

But by then Jin's shuffled closer, too, leaning into his space and it's like a live wire, Kame can't help it.

"It's okay, though," Jin says.

"No, really." Kame's thoughts are racing back to where he said— how he said— but he didn't. Jin's fondling his tie, so utterly focused on it and strange, and still there's the soft scent of Jin's skin. "I didn't mean that," Kame repeats anyway. "I just… I wanted to have some time alone, okay? Be out of the lounge."

"Yes," Jin says. "And it's really fine." He smiles, in that way again, and Kame's never felt crowded by Jin but he doesn't know how to handle this, with Jin so close and his eyes so empty.

Jin's kissing him. On the side of his face. Live wires all over. He puts his hands on Jin's shoulders and they sink like they can't hold the weight, but Jin just kisses him again. "It doesn't matter," he says. "It's okay now."

"Jin," Kame tries while Jin's hand wanders up his thigh, clumsy and hot and god, this is such a mess. "You don't need to do this."

"But I don't mind. It can work this way too, it'll be fine."

"I mind." He manages to stop Jin's hand, tilt Jin's head up, and Jin just goes along with every touch. "I just wanted to watch the game with you, remember?"

"But you paid for me!" The horrible words stretch out longer and deader, and Jin never even blinks. "You sent Tatsuya away."

"Yes." Kame's no longer even aroused, just helpless with Jin staring at him like a puppy who wants to be taken home. "I wanted to be with you." He swallows queasily, tries again. "You know. Hang out and talk?"

"Yes, and I'm here," Jin says as if fucking him is just the next step, the most obvious thing in the world, and fuck this.

"Jin, you're in no state to have sex with anybody."

"But it's different with you, you're not _like_ them," Jin says, from somewhere naked and deep down. "It's different. You feel different."

It's too much. He can't even think. About them, about himself, what they all did. He just holds still and holds Jin there and waits for the nausea to pass, because he's the one who needs to be on top of this and he needs to get there right _now_.

"I don't want to do that," he says. Only now he's aware he's holding on to Jin's hand, and he strokes it with his thumb, just a little. Jin's so frozen up, it seems safe to touch him, brush the wild hair out of his face. Then Jin draws in a shaky breath.

"What would you like then?" His voice is all wrong, still like he's running after something.

"I would like," Kame says slowly, "to watch the match with you. And I'd like you to tell me when I'm not understanding things again. And I'd like you to relax and forget about sex."

"But you… it's my job to…" Jin bites his lip. "It's a lot of money…"

"Well, it's my money," Kame interrupts, for once not even embarrassed. "And I'm the client, so what I say goes, right?" He barely waits for Jin's tentative nod. "Right. And I want us to watch the match and I want us to not have sex. Understood?"

Jin takes that in. Piece after piece. "If you're sure…" It sounds more lucid already.

"I'm very sure," Kame says, gently letting go of Jin's hand, letting Jin sit back. "Let's find the remote, okay?"

Jin helps him look, not that Jin could find the couch they're sitting on. Kame takes the remote and finds the match again, putting the audio on just the right sort of murmur.

The break's just over.

He picks up the beer and puts it in Jin's hands. Jin thanks him and holds on to it. After a while he takes a few deep gulps. He's not talking, and Kame tries not to watch him too obviously, but he seems to be following what's on the screen.

"Hey, weren't they defending that goal?" Kame says when his stomach has finally settled.

"They change sides," Jin explains. "Didn't you know that?"

"Must have forgotten," Kame lies. "I don't think I ever watched an entire match." So much is true.

He feels the leather give under his back where Jin slumps more heavily. They're almost touching.

Jin takes another gulp from his bottle. Kame doesn't quite dare any more. Doesn't want to be less than clear-headed if Jin surprises him again.

The minutes pass and it's good, nothing happening is good, no new incidents between them and no dramatic developments on the field. Jin tenses a little whenever a team gets close to the opposing goal, and relaxes again when it leads to nothing.

Kame sits still. Every time Jin shifts his weight he sinks more against Kame's side, and Kame doesn't want to comment. Doesn't know what it even means.

Some guy had sex with Jin and treated him so he's like this. Quiet and shaky, and thinking Kame has no use for him but to fuck him too.

He wonders what Jin was like after all those times with him, before. If someone was nice to him, or if they just…

Kame tries not to shiver, not to move. Jin's fully against him now, his weight shifting just barely whenever he takes a drink. Jin doesn't need his guilt now.

"What's going on now? Why's that guy in trouble?" He wants to know how Jin's voice sounds.

"Diving," Jin says. "You know, faking a foul."

Ah, okay, there's the replay.

"See. He didn't even touch him." Jin sounds regretful.

They're touching plenty. At some point Kame has to shift his weight to balance out against it. He wishes he'd taken off his jacket.

"Does that happen a lot?"

"Hm?"

"The faking. Diving."

"Hmmm." Jin heaves a sigh. "I guess? I think… they think they have to? It's not really, you know. Like sports should be."

"Sounds more like acting."

"Hmmm," Jin says again, and it sounds kind of drowsy. "Maybe they should make up their minds what they want to be."

They fall silent again, and the minutes pass, and Kame wonders if this is what baseball is like for people who don't care about it. He's finished his drink and would like some more. He could also do with a bathroom break. But he's reluctant to move.

Jin laughs under his breath when the camera shows the referee engaging in very expansive sign language. Laughing is good.

Kame doesn't know what comes after, and the clock is ticking on the screen.

But even before, it can't be helped anymore.

"Sorry," he says quietly over Jin's head. There's a first cautious shifting and Kame makes sure not to push. "I kind of need the bathroom."

Jin's quiet as he props himself up from where he's been lying against Kame. "Yeah," he admits. "Not a bad idea, actually." He looks rumpled and a little guilty, but okay.

"Watch carefully, you need to tell me about interesting developments," he instructs, and Jin grins like he's not quite taking him seriously.

They take turns, and while Jin is in the bathroom Kame refills their glasses and just catches the last bit of a big to-do on screen. That doesn't look good.

Whoops.

"Um, your guys…" he gestures when Jin comes out of the bathroom. "I'm afraid the guys in white just scored."

Jin makes a face like someone took away all the spaghetti in Japan. "Oh, man. That always happens when I take my eyes off the screen for a minute."

"They've still got twenty minutes. Maybe they'll catch up again," Kame tries to comfort him.

Jin sighs. "Yeah. Maybe."

He hesitates at the couch, then sits down, with a punctilious gap between Kame and himself. Sitting very upright as he follows the replays, and with the way he's keeping his elbows close and his hands in his lap, he looks like someone abandoned him there.

Kame reaches out and pulls him in; it hardly takes much, it's barely a hug before Jin slumps sideways and topples into Kame's lap, a thick muffled laugh coming from somewhere under the mop of hair.

Laughing is good. Jin's weight is good, _feeling_ he's all right. Getting to all right.

Kame brushes back Jin's hair so he can see, and Jin sighs. Settles.

"They better hurry," he mumbles. Kame leaves his hands to touch, agrees with a slow stroke of his fingers. Not long until Jin gets his feet up on the couch and just stays; rests, watching ninety-degree-distorted soccer with his head on Kame's thighs.

It's like the day finally slowed down, like they stopped stumbling over themselves. It's peaceful. Kame can feel the way Jin breathes. He likes the feel of Jin's hair running through his fingers. Likes the way this seems private and secret, even from their normal time together. The way it isn't normal and he doesn't know quite what it is, and he doesn't mind. He likes the way Jin suddenly giggles.

"You don't even like soccer." He sounds a bit like he has a cold.

Kame laughs too, a little breathlessly. At soccer, at himself. "How often do you watch this?" he asks, making Jin giggle again with the puzzlement in his voice. "It's interminable."

"Is not."

"Ninety minutes," Kame says in soft outrage. "For three goals."

"Pretty decent average." Jin's voice is getting dreamier. "Divided by eleven."

"Oh god. No math, please."

"Wait till you get one with overtime," Jin says gleefully, and Kame cards his fingers through Jin's hair in slow response, slips his other hand down to Jin's chest.

Math. What's the math on what he's doing here? A normal person's monthly salary to sit and watch a boring game in a luxurious room, and be able to keep an eye on Jin. How does that add up?

Maybe it's not surprising that Jin thinks this can't be all he wants. Maybe it is kind of weird.

Jin sighs under his touch, stays still.

So, soccer. And Jin's weight on his legs, calm and comforting. Kame feels a tension flow out of his muscles he didn't know was there. It goes so quiet, Jin might as well be asleep.

He laughs again when his guys score three minutes to closing, but he's too drowsy to move much, just says he always knew it, they can so come back from stuff.

Kame's so glad he's here. And that Jin will be okay. Whatever… whatever happened there. He thinks Jin will be okay. He can stay like this for however long it takes. All the time and space in the world.

The clock's still ticking down.

They even watch the interviews. It's sports guys talking about a sport they love, and as such it's not even boring. Jin says, "Yay," sleepily when the guys in suits admit the guys on Jin's team weren't half bad this time.

Then the program changes to general news. It takes Kame a while to admit it, but the mood's not the same with politics and finance and international crises in the mix. Eventually Jin gives a different kind of sigh, and Kame pulls back his hands.

Kame's legs feel damp and cold when Jin sits up, slow and burdened like he hasn't slept in days.

But he's smiling. "Thanks," he says. "For putting up with the soccer."

"One day I'll have my revenge, take you out to baseball," Kame says, with a sudden, keen image of Jin eating hot dogs beside him in the stalls.

Jin nods earnestly. "They don't kick stuff there, right?"

"No, they—" Kame stops when he sees Jin's mischievous grin. "I'll kick _you_ ," he says.

Jin's grin fades, slowly, until it's no more than a smile. "You won't."

"Okay," Kame concedes. "But I'll educate you in the rules of a beautiful game."

Jin bows a little. "I look forward to your guidance."

"Yeah," Kame mutters. "You better."

Jin smiles through his hand as he covers a yawn.

"Are you tired?"

"No!" Jin quickly shakes his head. "Just, with stuff, you know."

Kame doesn't know, _still_ doesn't really know, and prefers not to imagine.

"Would you like another drink?" he asks.

They have a whisky each. No Drambuie orders, no intruding waiters. It's comfortable. Unhurried. They don't say much and they make the shots last a while.

"I'm actually okay," Jin says in the end. "Just still a bit wired, or something." He gives Kame a slow look, a look that's warm and faraway at once, and then he nods. "I think if… if you'd like us to—" A vague hand wave towards the bed.

Kame swallows his last sip quickly, a burning lump down his throat. Not that again.

"I'm not tired and I'm okay and it's been hours and you… you know, the suite and all," Jin continues, while Kame shakes his head steadily.

"No."

"It would be fine. I think…" Jin is blushing, Kame is sure, and this is nonsense, it would not be— "I think I'd like it, too," Jin says.

And now he's no longer even looking at Kame, and _what_?

So many things Kame could say, and he comes up with the most selfish one. "Don't lie to me." He sets his glass down on the table, final. "I don't need that."

He reaches out to take Jin's glass, too, even though it's not empty, though he doesn't know why, and that's when Jin meets his eyes.

"I'm not lying."

He doesn't let go of the glass, and for a moment, they're frozen like that.

"I'm not lying," Jin repeats, "I think it would be… nice. Close."

Oh god.

Maybe they should. Maybe that would be less weird.

He sees it, as he's seen it all week where he hides it between the slices of his life; lying down with Jin, wrapping himself in nothing but that feeling, in a moment that holds for fragile eternity. Jin's right there with his reasoning and his determined face, if only Kame will reach for him, because there's the suite and all, and the pull in Kame's body which makes nothing better. Only clearer.

"Okay," he says, "I believe you, you're not lying. But it's kind of late…" It is, isn't it? Okay, after ten. It'll have to do. Jin let Kame take him away to be safe, and it's Kame's job to keep him safe. "I got in the mood for hanging out and I like just being here. With you. I like talking to you."

"Pretty expensive chat," Jin says quietly.

"Hey, you know me," Kame says, ignoring the shaky ground this is. "I'm frivolous and irresponsible, and I thought you were going to forgive me for that, yes?"

Jin laughs. It's the best thing Kame's heard all night. "Right," Jin says.

"I can use my rest to rest," Kame tries.

Jin makes a pained face. "You are so lame."

"So…" Kame takes a deep breath, and puts sex out of his mind; puts that guy, the guys, who made Jin like this out of his mind. "You staying a little while?"

Jin eyes the drinks and the dead TV, but it's just thoughtful, no longer lost. "Sure," he nods then. "As long as you like."

Kame is relieved. He wasn't ready to let Jin out of his sight yet.

"Thank you," he says, and Jin's smile is tired and a little sheepish.

They talk about soccer, then baseball, then junior high sports classes. Kame tries not to think about earlier, tries not to imagine, and most of the time it's working.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asks when he realizes how long he's been here and the day… what Jin's day has been like.

But Jin just shrugs. "Not really. Well, lunch. But I don't… I'm not hungry."

Kame isn't sure his experience would back that up. "Are you sure?" he insists. "I can just order us something, it's no big deal."

Jin makes a face, sighs. "I don't really… they just have…" He shrugs again. "I don't really want anything."

Kame swallows his initial protest. And thinks. "They do Italian," he tries, taking a guess at what Jin means.

"Yeah, but. Your veal stuff," Jin smiles. "They don't do pizza."

Kame reaches for the phone.

"No, really," Jin says, "they don't."

He's still shaking his head while Kame rings through and it turns out Jin was right, they don't do pizza.

"I'd really appreciate it," Kame says to the apologetic concierge. "I'd like a seafood pizza, one with pepperoni and extra cheese, and one Hawaii. I realize it'll take a while to put together, but we're really quite hungry up here…" He lets it trail off.

Jin is staring at him.

"Thank you," Kame says when the reply at the other end is slow in coming, "I appreciate it," and hangs up.

"You're nuts," Jin says. "You know, you'll get a reputation." He's grinning, though.

Kame's not nuts, just rich, and for once it's good for something. He makes a thoughtful face. "You think I'd look more hardcore if I'd gone for rucola?"

Jin laughs, a little drunkenly, and the pizza was worth it just for that.

*~*~*

It takes twenty minutes, which is better than Kame had expected. Three pizzas, arriving under terribly elegant stainless steel serving dishes, which Kame intercepts at the door from an impassive waiter. He's still not keen on having anyone in the room with them.

Jin laughs again at Kame serving the pizza with great flourish, but eats one half of each. Kame has some slices of the Hawaii and the seafood one, and as they sit on the couch licking their greasy fingers and with oodles of warm cheese in their stomachs, Kame thinks he gets the point. It's settling, somehow. Weirdly satisfying.

Afterwards Jin doesn't chide him for ordering too much, just sinks completely into his corner and lets Kame cover the leftovers to push them outside.

*~*~*

Everything's quieter now, or feels that way. They both sip at tumblers of Cognac, and Kame is starting to feel slow and sleepy. His formal pants are definitely feeling like the wrong time of day. Jin has sunk completely back into his corner and is watching Kame fidget.

"Time?" he asks.

From the sluggishness of his thoughts, Kame thinks it might be. "I think I could go to bed," he admits. He knows he might well crash as soon as Jin is safe somewhere.

"Yeah." Jin's nodding, and checking the time on the DVD player.

Kame doesn't know why now of all times he gets a lump in his throat. But he shakes his head, and hopes Jin won't notice. "Listen, Jin. You're not really going to go on the subway, are you?"

Jin shrugs lightly. "It's early enough."

"I'd be much happier if you let me pay for a cab. As a favour to me."

Jin ponders that. "More frivolousness and irresponsibility, huh?"

"Absolutely," Kame says. Imagining Jin out there, walking to the subway… no.

But that was a yes. Kame hides his relief while Jin smiles vaguely and nods, gearing up for making the call, fighting the clutches of the sofa.

And then he sees what's right in front of him; not what his caution or his guilty conscience might say, but what is _right there_ , in the slow way Jin moves, the weight on him.

"Or would you prefer to stay?"

Jin is standing, but he stills. Kame stays silent while the question hangs between them.

It shouldn't feel so significant. They've spent the night together a dozen times and more.

Finally Jin looks at him, and Kame can't tell if it's grateful or defeated or just tired. "Yes. I'd like to stay."

It feels weird to smile. "It's nicer for me, too," Kame says, "if you stay."

Jin's smile is equally cautious. "That's good. I wouldn't like to…" He waves vaguely. If he weren't standing upright, Kame would think he fell asleep mid-sentence.

"You're not," Kame says, and that seems to be final enough. Jin nods, and slowly unbuttons his cuffs.

Then he stops and looks into space.

It reminds Kame there is stuff to be done. Stuff someone should do who's still up to it. "What about your bag?"

"I don't really need it," Jin says. "But if you get yours…"

"Let's have them brought up," Kame decides, because suddenly it's important that Jin should have his normal sleepwear.

He sends Jin ahead to the bathroom, out of the way of room service who bring up Kame's bag from the car and Jin's from wherever he keeps it.

They still end up wandering around the suite together while brushing their teeth. That's even weirder than that time at Jin's place.

Kame is done first, and he pulls the throw off the bed, and then he remembers about his alarm.

"I have to get up at eight," he says to Jin. "Hope that's okay."

"Hmmm hmmm," Jin says, with a nod, before he disappears for the bathroom again.

Okay, good. Kame gets in the bed, and all is good, all settled, and Jin's coming to join him, wearing boxers and his faded green t-shirt. Kame lifts the cover and makes more room. It's a big bed anyway. All good.

They turn off the lights.

Jin shifts a little. Kame turns on his side towards him, tries to tell whether his eyes are open. But he can't. Jin shifts again, and Kame rolls on his back.

"So," he says into the dark. "Has that team of yours ever won anything yet?"

"Hey!" Jin sounds fuzzily affronted. "They sure did. In 1986 they—"

Kame chuckles. "You remember it well?"

"Hey!" This time the complaint is accompanied by a weak punch against his arm, and Kame grabs Jin's wrist and holds it, not hard, Jin could pull away if he wanted.

"Hi," Jin says, more quietly.

When Kame lets go, Jin's hand stays.

Right.

So Kame moves a bit closer, and stretches out his arm until he touches Jin's shoulder, and he taps a couple of times and then he tugs at the t-shirt, until Jin rolls on his side and it's easy to pull him in.

They fit well, the way they always do. Jin is slow to settle and not heavy, and there's a cut-off breath; Jin's hand sneaking timidly around his chest. Kame waits, breathing away the shock of Jin's body so close after a day like this, and how new it feels when it's nothing but this.

He closes his eyes in the dark, stroking Jin's back where his hand falls. Then gasps when Jin's arm goes _tight_ around him and Jin pulls crushingly close, demanding like never before, with his leg over Kame and his face pressing into Kame's neck. Holding on like he's drowning.

Kame breathes carefully, blinks at the ceiling. Jin— he's never done this, he'd never do this, and it's spooky except… except it's not, because it's something Kame can do.

He gets the message to his arms and holds Jin just this close, as close as Jin needs.

It seems to be the right thing.

He doesn't know how long it is; not long, just quiet, and close, but then Jin stirs a little.

"Thanks," he mumbles, and Kame's starting to shake his head, when he continues, "for being so nice about this."

Somehow it makes his chest tight, and Kame is glad for the darkness. "It's okay," he says, at least that can't be wrong.

"...'m sorry I went all freaky on you. Earlier."

God, Jin and his vacant wide eyes, blank like some doll's. Kame pulls him tighter; there's a huff like Jin doesn't mind at all. "It's okay," he repeats. It's worth repeating. "Only no more funny stuff now, okay?"

Jin shakes his head. That's all that moves, the rest is hot clingy weight. "No," he says, just as muffled. "I'm glad we watched the match."

Kame almost laughs. He strokes Jin's skin where he's holding him. "I had fun too. Learned a lot. And I like it when you explain things to me."

Which is weird, he thinks, he used to hate that, but that's not a thought for here, where he can feel Jin's sleepy sigh all along his body, ending in something between a sniffle and a laugh.

"Most people don't really get me for conversation." He sounds drifty, going even slacker while Kame—

Kame's heart is pounding through the roof.

Beginner. Fumbling, no use. The mute difficult one, finally knows what he's good for. On your knees.

Jin's breath evens out as he sinks deeper into sleep, right where he is. Plastered to Kame with his limbs heavy, letting Kame keep him there.

Kame's wide awake.

*~*~*

Jin follows him around the bed all through the night. When Kame finally sleeps it's in fits and starts, and whenever he wakes up Jin is somewhere around, Jin's foot tangled with his legs or his arm hidden along Kame's back. It makes him stiff and his brain even antsier because he never wants to withdraw or lean on Jin the wrong way. Once, he drifts up from a dream of the cat biting Jin and giving him food poisoning to feel Jin's hand nudged between his arm and the mattress, and it's just enough to keep him from crawling closer.

He resorts to imagining that he's an actor acting the part of someone who is asleep, and it seems to do some good, because there are a couple of hours he doesn't remember when he becomes aware of Jin breathing against his shoulder and checks his alarm and it's half past seven. Almost time to get up.

He puts it off for as long as he can, but in the end he extricates himself slowly from Jin and substitutes a pillow. Jin huffs a sleepy breath into it, his hair fanned out on the white linen in fine dark strands.

Kame cancels the alarm and heads for the bathroom. If he showers now, it'll give them more time for a peaceful breakfast.

*~*~*

When Kame comes out of the bathroom, clean and dressed in his boxers, he finds Jin spread out across the entire bed. The pillow has been rejected. Kame picks it up from the floor and holds on to it for a moment.

He wakes Jin with a cautious hand on his shoulder. "Jin."

Jin's eyes snap open under his tousled hair, and for a second they're perfectly still. Then Jin rolls on his back, a lazy turn against Kame's wrist. "Hey. 's time yet?"

Kame sits at the edge of the bed; when they have the time he does that. "We don't have to rush," he says, quiet as if neighbours could hear. "I woke up early."

Jin laughs scratchily, then sighs. The bed dips when he struggles up, brushing against Kame on his way off the mattress. "You have a hard life," he finds, stiffness in his shoulders and a giggle underneath.

"I have a radio interview," Kame says. "And not enough coffee in my system." He picks up his watch from the nightstand and snaps it on.

Jin seems to have a hard time deciding between the four white bathrobes. Kame wakes him up with a passing hand on the small of his back and moves out into the living room, where he continues to gather his possessions.

He hears the wardrobe door slide shut, Jin's footsteps muffled on the thick carpet, and finally a dull thud on the sofa behind him. Jin's sitting upright on it with his knees pulled up to his chin, aimlessly trying to cover his toes with the hem of his bathrobe.

"I'll shower later," he decides.

"I'll order us breakfast," Kame says, and hands him the menu, and then he stands there.

He wants to ask about last night; if Jin is all right. If there's anything, anything at all, that needs saying or doing. Somehow he feels there must be.

Jin is examining the breakfast menu they both know by heart without moving his eyes. "I want the croissants," he declares. "With honey."

And Kame waits, and thinks, and then… "No eggs?"

Jin sighs profoundly. "Too early for eggs."

They both ask for extra shots of espresso in their cappuccino. While they wait, Kame inspects his jacket for creases, and starts to fix his hair in front of the big mirror.

By the time he puts down the hairdryer, Jin is eyeing him with tentative focus. "Why," he says, "are you styling your hair?"

Kame reaches for the fixing spray. "Why wouldn't I?" He deals with the annoying strands by his ears and makes sure it doesn't lie too flat over the middle of his head.

"I thought you said radio." Jin frowns. "That's just voices."

"Yes, but. There will be people there."

Now Jin is grinning. "The people in the radio?"

"Yes," Kame insists, grinning back. "Them." If he tells Jin that he'll be putting headphones over his hair within ten minutes of getting there, he'll never hear the end of it, so he doesn't.

He's saved from having to say anything by the soft room-service knock on the door. Jin starts to stir on the couch but Kame is closer, and more awake, so it's no contest who opens the door.

"Good morning, Kido-san," he says to the middle-aged waiter who is a constant of smooth professionalism no matter the time of day.

"Morning, Kido-san," Jin echoes from behind. When Kame looks, he's given up on the getting up, but he's sitting on the edge of the couch and looking more attentive as Kido lays the table for them as efficiently as ever.

Kido remarks on their early start and gives them a quick breakdown of the weather report and the main areas of traffic congestion. Kame is lucky, but Jin grimaces. "The subway will be hell no matter what."

"You could just go back to bed for a couple of hours," Kame says, and Kido nods.

"The cleaners don't come in until nine, and I can ask the assistant housekeeper to send them here last."

Jin's perking up. "I might do that. Thanks, Kido-san, I'd be really grateful if you could ask him."

The waiter nods, and wishes them a good day, and takes his cart away.

"That was a great idea," Jin announces when they sit down with their food. Kame goes for the coffee first while Jin flips open the napkin protecting the warm croissants. It's like yesterday didn't happen.

It can't be that simple, nothing is. But as he watches Jin dribble honey from a spoon and inspect the jam varieties, he's glad for now. So glad. He likes these mornings, whether they're rushed or slow, because somehow they just are, and nothing's a service.

Jin's conversation as he wakes up over coffee and sugar is as relaxed and honest as ever. Today he's mostly curious about the cooking class Kame wants to take for his drama and when he'll get to reap the benefits.

Kame is doubtful of his skills with scallops. "And I'd like to aim for something next weekend," he adds quietly. "With cooking or without." But with time for a proper date.

"Next weekend would be nice," Jin says. "With the cooking, we can see how busy your week gets. Or… I make excellent instant ramen."

Kame laughs. "I'll keep that in mind for a fallback."

And it's time to get going. He gulps down the last of his coffee as he rises, and makes sure once again that he has everything and that, yes, his hair looks okay.

Jin sees him to the door. "Have fun on the radio," he says.

"Better not too much fun," Kame says. "I'll call you about next weekend?"

Jin nods, straightening out Kame's jacket collar, and they kiss, and then he leaves, with his bag and his appointments and a warm tingle on his lips while Jin will go curl up again under the covers.


	41. Chapter 41

### Monday 16 February

Kame does post-production voice-recording for a few scenes of the samurai movie after the radio on Saturday; some horse's fault. He and his quiet opponent, to whom he never warmed up on set, have a lot of fun threatening each other grandly over frothy Starbucks coffee. On Sunday he gets his hair trimmed and shoots for the movie posters and calendar, and then he has dinner with Midori at his parents' house.

They sleep together that night, and everything is relaxed and normal. Midori bemoans her career change when she has to leave the house on Monday morning while he's still in his pyjamas reading cookery books, but when he offers her his commentator gig in the afternoon while he takes her job, she laughs and says he'd only distract the office girls.

When he thinks about Jin it's so nobody knows; when he's safe driving, or getting dressed, or playing with Ran-chan in his parents' dusky garden. When he worries how Jin went back to work on the weekend, whether he'd say no now, whether he was fine sleeping in the dark alone, Kame keeps it off his face and out of the lives of people who don't know him.

When he is done with his guest commentary at a music competition and has finished a fashion shoot, and is looking at three hours before he can pick up Midori at the office, he thinks he's been very reasonable and careful, and there's no one to say he can't have a drink somewhere on the way home like normal husbands; drop in on somebody like normal people do.

He's in his car and driving when he realizes it might be polite to call first. Then he's nervous enough about the answer that he doesn't stop again.

The garage is pretty empty. He still has the nicely done hair from the photo shoot and a decent suit, so that moment he spends messing with his fringe in front of the rearview mirror is probably silly.

Okay then. Just coffee. It won't be at all like that night, and maybe Jin will be glad to know that Kame doesn't expect this closeness all the time now; that Kame understands about bad nights and special circumstances.

The club is as underpopulated as the garage. A few bland-looking guys here and there, and there's an old guest with lots of young men around him. Kame doesn't want to stand here and look like he's inviting company if Jin isn't here, if Jin is…

Jin is rising from the large group, a wide smile on his face.

Kame waves, not as noticeably as last time. Funny how glad he is.

"Hey," Jin says when he gets there. "You're sooner than I expected…."

"I'm just stopping by for a drink. I've got a few free hours before I have to be home and I was in the mood for coffee with friendly company." It sounded good in the car; it sounded better than it sounds here, where friendly has certain overtones and he's not sure what Jin makes of it.

But Jin smiles very convincingly, and just ducks his head. He leads Kame to a small, light pastel seating group by the wall with the newspaper rack. Not the tables in front of the TV screen.

"Coffee, huh?" he asks; and there's more than one question here. "Not really your usual time. Do you want a menu for that?" But he's still smiling, and suddenly Kame doesn't want to evade.

"Yes, just coffee. I have to go home to my wife tonight. I don't want to have a date when I do that." He wishes he could stop himself blushing.

Jin tilts his head, and then there's a slow nod. "Yeah, I get that."

"I hope it's okay I came anyway," Kame adds. "I had some time and wanted to see how you were and I felt like… you know. Stopping by. Talking to you."

Jin's nodding more vigorously. "Yes. Yes, that's great."

"But I don't want to interfere with your night. Just because I had a funny idea."

Jin casts a long look across the room. "Nope," he says. "Nothing I'm missing out on." He leans back and studies the menu at demonstrative leisure before he flags down a waiter for them.

It's really not very busy.

They order a latte for Kame, and Jin asks for an espresso, which is ridiculous, so Kame gets him a double of the most expensive brandy to go with it. Jin gives the potted plant next to him a pitying look.

"Just leave it to sit," Kame says once the waiter has left. "Spare the poor plant."

Jin smiles. "Okay." He's tapping some rhythm with his feet and peering at Kame from under his fringe like coffee was Kame's best idea this week.

Well, it's been a short week so far. Kame stupidly blushes again.

"Hey," Jin says. It sounds different and not at all demonstrative. "About last time. Thank you." He's at ease and not at all like that night… and that's great, that is such a relief.

"Are you okay?" Kame asks. "I mean, were you okay, later?"

Jin nods, and doesn't evade either. "Yeah, I was fine. Nothing… nothing _really_ bad happened. Some guy just got unpleasant and it could have… but I had security, it was okay, it's really fine. And you really helped, so…"

Then he starts looking for the waiter like that's the last he wants to hear of it, not even protestations that it was nothing, the least Kame could do; that he was scared too.

But Kame can go with that. "So now that I'm here," he says, "I can ask you about the weekend."

"I'm free," Jin says instantly, and Kame is glad there are no stupid complications. Because he is a little nervous.

"I was wondering if you'd like to come to a party with me at Tanaka's house." He's thought it over enough that he can say it cool like that and not have it resonate with unspoken Midori questions, or the hour he went back and forth on it before asking Tanaka.

Jin doesn't react much; maybe he heard the doubts anyway even though Kame was sure… "Sure," he says, slowly, eventually. It sounds not sure at all. There's a tiny frown. "Is it… that kind of party?" He looks around as if he expects Tanaka somewhere with— oh.

"No! Not a club party. It's a music party. A party with music. With people who make music."

"I… see."

Kame sighs. "Tanaka is throwing this thing for a band he produces, and there'll be lots of other people there, and I think it could be fun. Since you like music and all that."

"So it's not a _date_ there." Jin sounds like he wants to be sure, which is perfectly understandable.

"No," Kame says. "Not at the party anyway. I'd like… I'd like to take you home after."

"That sounds workable," Jin says, and the way he says it it sounds more than workable.

"I wasn't going to go just by myself," Kame muddles on, "but then I thought… well. There's music. And you'd be going as my friend." He doesn't say he can only ask because Midori didn't want to go; he'd like Jin there, and he likes the thought of Jin enjoying himself. And all the other people there will just mean that Jin won't have to act like an escort around him.

Jin's face goes warm with a slow smile. "I like being your friend."

He's still like that when the waiter comes with their drinks, grinning more deeply when Kame insists on handling his own sugar dosage because he is just on an afternoon break and can tie his own shoes.

"You could have just called and asked, you know," Jin remarks. "About the party."

"But I didn't come about that. I came for coffee in nice company." Kame taps off his spoon quite pointedly.

Jin nods and stirs an entirely sugarfree espresso. "So it's good, your latte?"

"Very good."

"Just the right mix?" Now Jin is trying to look serious over his tiny cup.

"Yes," Kame says decisively. "Very healthy cows."

Jin snorts, and slumps further into the sofa. "Moo."

They swap the little chocolates that came with their drinks because Jin wants the milk one and Kame is happy with the dark. Jin tells him he's excited about going to see an apartment; Yamashita recommended him for it and Kame is relieved for Jin that all is good between them. Kame tells Jin of the rebellious horses that drowned out the actors in half their scenes. It's good coffee, relaxed conversation. Kame almost forgets to watch the time.

Almost. He's got responsibilities, and it won't do Jin any good either if he's only got two coffees and a brandy to bill. In the end it's been a little less than an hour when he says he has to get a move on.

Jin gets up with him, and they both smile sheepishly because this is weird, they don't really know how to say goodbye down here. They decide by silent agreement that Jin will see him to where he gets his coat.

"Thank you for this," he says as Kame wraps up. "It's… that was new."

Kame doesn't really need to wear the coat for the short way to his car, but it gives his hands something to do.

"I told you," he says. "Purely selfish."

Jin sticks his hands in his pockets. "Well," he says. "It was a nice surprise."

_We're always glad to see you here._

Jin is mulling over thoughts and they're nothing like that, nothing about a sell. His suit looks kind of rumpled like this and his smile is secret, reluctant almost. It's crushing how much Kame wants to kiss him.

"I'm glad you were free," he says instead.

"You could do that again," Jin suggests. "Have more breaks. Spend them here."

Kame laughs and says everyone wants him to turn into a slacker, and Jin protests Kame should keep working hard for the sake of cooks and samurai everywhere, he should just come back and try the iced caramel lattes over some more chat.

Kame nods calmly, and then he has to leave.

But he just might do that.

 

### Tuesday 17 February

"You'll see, he'll ask us who's happy to earn loads of cash by giving the creep what he wants," Jin says while they lace up their shoes. "There's money to be made there, why would he let that go?"

"Because what that perv did is illegal?" Danny insists.

"So is prostitution," says Jaejoong. "The police will not favour us."

"And because morale will bottom out if he gets away with it," Danny says. "These guys are managers, they better know how to manage." He closes the door behind them with a soft click.

"Yeah," Jin says, "right, because sucking boss dick once a month _so_ keeps the workforce happy."

"Sshh!" Just a few meters from Ootomo's office now, and Jaejoong is getting nervous.

"I just think of that as an administrative fee," Danny says. "I bet you, it'll be fine."

And they knock on Ootomo's door.

Of them all, only Jin encountered more than Inaba's mirror. And he suspects he still got too lucky for management to really do something about the guy. If they hadn't let him go…

Ootomo's office is cold.

"Welcome, gentlemen." Ootomo motions them to sit, offers tea, which they decline, and starts fiddling with his pen as usual. "I've called you in about the Inaba affair."

Yeah, no kidding. Nobody says anything.

"I am pleased to tell you that Inaba is off the books," Ootomo starts.

Danny's elbow digs into Jin's ribs, and Danny doesn't even try to hide the smug glance under his curls.

"Additionally, our reputation is such that he took seriously our threat to involve the police, and accepted a fine with regard to all three incidents; you'll get your usual cut, the equivalent of relaxations for the two of you and a comfort for Jin."

They show themselves properly thankful, and Ootomo beams at them like an altruistic benefactor. Jin isn't even sure he wants the money. Of course he'll take it anyway.

"He offered more," Ootomo says, "if we were willing to keep him on. I hope you don't feel that I've done you out of a good deal."

"No," Jin says, before he's even aware that he's spoken. But by the time he can get self-conscious, Danny and Jaejoong are backing him up, so that's fine.

"Your tests came back okay this morning, too," Ootomo adds, "so all's well that ends well, eh?"

Right. It was the best outcome he could get, and Jin's not sure why it doesn't make him happier. He just doesn't want it to have happened at all… doesn't want to think of the chilly fear or the endless inquisition after, or what a fucking mess he was and if he'd been with anyone but Kame…

Kame was so great about it. Maybe Jin should use the money to get something nice for them. Maybe some awfully boring greatest hits of baseball DVD for Kame to explain to him.

There's a tug on his arm, Jaejoong, pulling him up and towards the door. Danny's already there. Jin bows a quick apology at Ootomo, and then they're out, and Danny is grinning a 'see-I-told-you' at him.

Jin grins back faintly. No point moping, and Ootomo is right, they got the best result realistically possible. Jin's should-have-beens are neither here nor there. He'll just have a quick cigarette, to lock it all away again before he meets Yamatani downstairs. It's enough that this crap spoiled his date with Kame; he doesn't want Yamatani to have to deal with his drama, too.

*~*~*

When Jin gets into the lounge again two hours later, it's noisy.

Jaejoong is hidden away in a corner with Miwa, and far opposite Jin sees Jun and Sakurai getting up and heading for the concierge. But the center of the lounge is taken up by a couple of tables pushed together, with a lively crowd gathered around a four-layer Champagne tower. Yokoyama is pouring the contents of a bottle into it with a flourish, to general applause. Close by stands Nakamaru, blue-in-blue argyle sweater vest peeking out under his dark blazer, waiting his turn with another bottle. Standing right beside them is Junno in a dark grey suit and a long purple scarf, grinning widely, bowing over and over, then grinning some more.

Jin's pretty sure he would have heard if anybody was getting married.

He's been spotted by people on the fringes: Yuuya waves him over with a little bounce, and Koyama, Kato and Tadayoshi shuffle around a little to make room for him in their group. So it's an open party, then.

Getting closer, Jin notices Kato is holding an empty bottle, too. "What is everybody celebrating?" he asks after the formal bow.

"Junnosuke passed his accountancy exam," Kato says. "He told Yokoyama-san and…" His glance at the exuberant stockbroker is a little glassy, and the pause lasts as though he's contemplating a long story he isn't quite able to account for. "Well," he concludes with a smile. "Here we are."

The Champagne glasses are full, and Yokoyama takes the top one and hands it ceremonially to Junno, who is beaming like disco lights. The rest of the glasses are handed around, and Jin gets one too, and finally everybody sits down.

He should have paid better attention, Jin thinks when he finds himself between Nakamaru and Tatsuya, not a distressing location but not a promising one, either. "Thank you for the Champagne," he says, because that's straightforward and straightforward works best between them, they've figured out that much on the rare occasions they've talked after the first, and last, mutually awkward date.

"Oh, no," Nakamaru waves it off. "Most of it came from Yokoyama-san." He smiles vaguely in Junno's direction. "Junnosuke could probably tell us all about percentages. I may turn out to be responsible for the bubbles."

Jin remembers the soap foam experiments and bows his head quickly, politely, until he's sure he's not going to laugh. He doesn't want to offend, but he seems to laugh at Nakamaru's jokes the wrong way or something. He's figured that out, too.

But Nakamaru has caught Junno's gaze across the small table, and they end up toasting each other with wide smiles. "So we'll lose you soon?" Nakamaru says jovially.

"Not that soon," Junno protests. "Got a couple more exams to go, and besides…" He contemplates the glass, and gazes delightedly around the people who have gathered for him. "I think I might miss this too much. I'll stick around for a little longer."

Yokoyama asks him something Jin doesn't quite understand regarding whatever the exam was about, and whatever his next course might entail, and things like nominal and effective compound interest, and it's funny, how all those guys can get excited by financial topics.

Or, well, Jin guesses it's understandable. There are a few things he'd like to know, too, if he even knew how to start asking. Still, he wonders how people can just talk about this stuff, here. Doesn't Junno mind them knowing? Don't the clients mind knowing that he's trying to get away from them eventually? Everybody just seems in party mood.

Too far away from him, Yuuya and Koyama are clinking glasses and giggling at each other. Well, he shouldn't interrupt there, anyway. Kato and Tadayoshi look happily settled for the evening, but still Kato leans forward across the table between them and nods at him agreeably. "It's been a while," he says. "I hope you are well?"

Jin confirms quickly, yes, he's well, and still grateful, and definitely well. "Do you have any interesting cases at present?" he asks then.

Kato glances around briefly, and produces a wry smile. "None that are fit for discussion in a crowd, I'm afraid."

Jin blinks. He doesn't _think_ that means anything, but it's the kind of thing where…

"Maybe we can find some privacy some time," he replies, and it's easy to put some hope and some sincerity into it, because Kato was pleasant, and Jin likes him.

"Sometime not tonight, I should be pleased," Kato says, and now Tadayoshi is waggling his eyebrows at Jin where Kato can't see and… well, okay. Okay!

"I'd like that, too," Jin says, more emphatically this time, but then he butts out and leaves the two to enjoy their evening together because whenever sometime will be, it's not now. This sort of thing happens and it's not always a blunder.

Nearer Jin, Tsukada is suggesting that Nakamaru might hire Junnosuke as a much-needed aide for his colleague the finance minister. Nakamaru thanks him for the advice with a short bow, and turns away from him towards Jin and Tatsuya on his other side, to enquire whether Junno is helping out the escorts with his expertise.

"I think that's an excellent idea," Tatsuya says, and manages to look like he can't imagine anything better than holding his finances up for Junno's inspection. "But it's hard to get a slice of his time; our esteemed guests are powerful competition."

Jin nods along with that. He couldn't have said it better. Or at all. Tatsuya gives him a sneaky little nudge with his knee.

"You're just too much fun," Junno is saying to Nakamaru, who blushes a little and coughs quietly.

"I am… I am very pleased to hear it, but I'm afraid you may flatter me too much."

"You totally are," Yuuya chimes in from beyond Koyama. They both seem to mean it, and, well, there's just got to be something Jin is missing.

Nakamaru seems to return Junno's feelings. "If you wanted to… Um. With some more private… unless you already…"

He trails off when Junno shows him a regretful, but not too regretful, smile.

"I'm afraid that tonight, I'm already _accounted_ for." Junno leans loose-limbed against Yokoyama, who smiles at Nakamaru in apology, before his expression changes to a more speculative one.

"Well," he says. "I've never tried a threesome. I think that could be fun?" He glances hopefully from Junno to Nakamaru and back.

Jin's breath stops, weirdly; it's nothing to do with him, no-one wants him for anything here, or Yuuya, or… what is he even thinking?

And Nakamaru is blinking too and has flushed red, and he's waving an urgent hand in front of his face. "I, uh, indeed, I don't think I…"

It should be funny but it's not, only Jin seems to be the only one noticing it. Junno is leaning across the table again, hitting the minister with his most charming smile. "It could be _so much_ fun. I'm great at—" The rest is a whisper into Nakamaru's ear, and now the poor man is just staring into his lap and shaking his head.

Jin tugs unobtrusively at Junno's sleeve. "Hey."

Junno grins sideways at him. "You a candidate, too? We could have an orgy. There's this other thing I can do, where— "

Jin rolls his eyes. "Some of us aren't into moresomes." He puts enough of a hint into it that Junno gets it.

"So boring," he pouts, but it's good-natured. He settles back beside Yokoyama, while Nakamaru flashes Jin the wry grimace of the sexually unadventurous. Jin dares a little grimace back.

"Will lonely little me do for now?" Junno says to Yokoyama, getting more elastic with every sip of Champagne he takes. "I can whisper sweet nothings about nominal ledger accounts to you, before, during, or after."

Jin doesn't hear the answer because someone taps him on the shoulder, and he turns round.

It's Tanaka, passing by in a faint clinking of chains, flashing him a peace sign and then making finger guns at him. "Saturday." He grins and saunters on, towards a smaller table by the wash paintings where Shota is rising, smiling.

Saturday. Jin's nervous, and looking forward to it at the same time. It'll be weird, meeting lots of new people and lying to them, but Kame said they were mostly musicians, and he doesn't have to lie about his interest in music.

Tatsuya rises and excuses himself politely from all clients present. When Jin glances at the door he sees the tall, silver-haired man who is his monthly regular, and with whom Jin has never exchanged a single word. Some sort of ambassador, that's all he knows.

The Champagne is almost drunk, and the group is starting to break up into smaller circles, into pairs. Tsukada is trying to talk to Nakamaru again, and the minister seems to be getting rather impatient and agitated about something to do with quotas, and Jin's just about to see if he can get lucky somewhere far away from bitchfighting politicians when Nakamaru turns to him and says, "So, um. If you don't have to, as one might say, be somewhere else, I wonder if you might like another drink, as it were?"

*~*~*

Jin's certain that it was far more about getting Tsukada off his back than about some sudden irrepressible desire for Jin's body. But the drink turned out all right, and Nakamaru's look turned more speculative as time went on and the minister consumed more wine, and then all the other escorts were gone and Jin still hadn't said or done anything stupid, and now here they are, sitting on a couch in a room, with drinks from the bar and three hours to see if they can get this to work.

It's already difficult; Nakamaru doesn't give the impression that he'd like it if Jin simply started to undress him, but he also looks like he needs some sort of excuse to undress himself, or touch Jin.

Jin remembers this, vividly. He didn't have a clue what to do with it then, and isn't much more certain now.

He can guess that Takahisa just bounces over and manages to rip all Nakamaru's clothes off anyway _and_ make him happy about it, but Jin can't do bouncy; if he tries that he'll just embarrass both of them.

So they sit there, and eventually Jin asks if it's okay if he gets comfortable.

"Of course," Nakamaru says, almost gratefully, "of course, yes. I'll get comfortable too."

When Jin undoes his tie, Nakamaru loosens his own, and when Jin starts to unbutton his shirt, Nakamaru fiddles with his own top button, and maybe they have something going there, maybe Jin just needs to persevere…

…but Nakamaru stops after two buttons, and then just watches as Jin carries on until his shirt is fully open.

Now what?

"Do you still bring your special conditioner in?" he asks Nakamaru, because at least that's something he knows Nakamaru likes to talk about, and it's not like politics, not way above Jin's head.

Turns out Jin never knew about the hair-protecting properties of eggs. Beer and coconut oil and tea seem beneficial too, and important if you don't want your hair to fall out too early. He just about manages not to look at Nakamaru's hairline.

He nods a lot. "Any kind of beer?" he asks, and gets a tragic shrug in reply.

"Unfortunately, they don't specify. I suspect organic beer would be best, not just for the hair but obviously also for the environment."

They pause in thoughtful agreement.

"Do you do anything for your hair?" Nakamaru asks. "I notice you don't bleach it, which is good, very good, bleaching causes considerable damage."

"No," Jin admits, "I don't." He's almost sorry. Then he has a thought. "But I use a particular body lotion." It doesn't seem like giving away too much, right then, and they can do with all the common ground they can find.

Nakamaru is very interested, and Jin grimaces when he has to confess that he doesn't know if there is any honey or jojoba in it. "It's quite expensive," he says, "but I found a special deal recently, three for two, so I stocked up."

"That's excellent," Nakamaru says, and he looks truly pleased for Jin. "It just shows you how high the mark-up on some products is, because the shops are probably still making a profit even so."

"Yeah. I've tried lots of other stuff, actually, because I don't like paying so much. But it's really the best."

"The best is worth paying for," Nakamaru agrees, and that's them out of conversation again, except…

"Would you like to feel how it works?" Jin tries, and pushes his shirt aside a little more.

Not subtle, but not crippling like their fumbling last time; they smile at each other. And hey, it works.

Nakamaru's face is flushed but his hand isn't nervous on Jin's stomach, and after a few appreciative noises – strictly about the efficacy of Jin's lotion choices, of course – he moves it to Jin's chest.

Jin fiddles his own trousers open, and Nakamaru raises his eyebrows. "Do you really use it all over?"

Jin invites him to try and find out, and from then on, it's easy.

 

### Thursday 19 February

It's the Odaiba studio, which is okay. Less convenient from his apartment than Chiyoda, more convenient than Yokohama. And anyway, Kame knows the route well. He goes over the two scenes again in his head as he drives, heater on high and the sun-visor flipped outward against the grey glare in the high clouds. A cute shopping scene for aspiring female leads, a confrontation for potential nemeses to show their stuff. The producer called in three men and three women from their stack of submissions, that's all Kame's heard, but he's not known for being difficult over whom he works with.

Traffic flows easily but he makes sure not to get too distracted by his excitement, anyway. He always enjoys the start of a new filming season, finding new colleagues, working with new roles and new dynamics. Finding a team, if he's lucky. And this time, a new sort of character for himself, something he's wanted for years.

He rolls the window down just a little to feel the breeze in his face.

He's going to be meeting the love interest in a supermarket, selecting eggplants. Fitting for the story of a cook, though Kame doesn't have the big picture yet, how the cute scenes will fit in with the later intensity.

It's always a gamble, staking chemistry on those audition scenes from early in the drama when the crucial stuff is likely to hit them several episodes down the line. You just do what you can and take your best guess. And of course in the end it's up to the directors and producers, anyway.

The building always looks a little forbidding in this weather, but Kame knows that inside, airy rooms with comfortable chairs are waiting, and he knows where to find the one coffee machine that never sells out of sugared cappuccino. It's been a couple of years since he last shot here but it still feels comfortably familiar, like so many studios around town.

Haga is a tall, balding man who made it clear at their first meeting two weeks ago that he regards Kame as a star who will bring him high ratings with minimum dramatics. Kame likes being known as reliable.

He hadn't heard much about the director at all before, but just as in their introduction meeting he's greeting Kame like a long-lost friend. Kame smiles back as is fitting, taking in today's fashion statement of green puffy sleeves over a tight black t-shirt. Clearly Funabashi is the creative type.

He's also the talky one who repeats the schedule for Kame, before they lead him to the room where the three female candidates are waiting to be introduced.

Of course they knew to expect him. There was publicity as soon as he got the part and the business grapevine probably still got there first.

Kame recognizes all three. Hideki Mayumi co-stars in at least one drama a year, and has been in the business almost as long as Kame; they once auditioned together, a year or so before his earthquake movie, but Kame didn't get the part. Matsura stands close to her – they must have been talking, but stopped as soon as the door opened. She gives Kame a charming smile and a flirty little wave of her fingers.

The third is Watanabe Ruri, standing aside a little. Kame knows her; they worked together a long time ago, when Kame was on the last of the embarrassing school dramas he asked Jin not to watch. She fell in love with the ghostly schoolboy, then, though target audience and specter logistics meant theirs was a very theoretical love affair. They smile at each other.

Haga makes the introductions, and then Kame is whisked off to the room where the auditions will be held, where he gets another few minutes to get his head in the game and think about eggplants.

*~*~*

"I think it worked quite well with Hideki-san and Watanabe-san," Haga says. "Would you agree?"

They are sitting around the table which, for the last hour, served as an imaginary vegetable display. The assistant has brought them coffee in brown plastic cups and a small tray of sandwiches. Funabashi is well on his way to demolishing the sweetcorn and mayonnaise ones all by himself and is currently only able to nod.

"Yes." Kame thinks about how to put it, whether he even needs to. He could act opposite Matsura, he's enough of a professional for that. But it feels excessive to mention her name out of mere fairness. Hideki's performance was far superior, and he feels more comfortable with Watanabe. "I think I could be very happy with either of them on the team."

"The third girl…" Funabashi wipes his fingers on the paper napkin, as he has done between each piece so far. "I got the feeling that she was very enthusiastic, but perhaps slightly off-message."

"Rather aggressive," Haga says, and though Kame stops himself from nodding, he knows that for a supposed first meeting, she didn't have to lean quite so close when he explained about how firm an eggplant should be.

"She's quite focused on getting a part, I think, " he says, as though that's an excuse. It's the best he can do. She was always more herself than her character.

The other two nod noncommittally. "It is a pity," Funabashi says. "Good parts are difficult to come by. I wish her luck."

And that, Kame thinks, is that.

In the end the part goes to Hideki, and though he feels a little sorry for Watanabe, Kame is excited. There's something fresh and energizing about working with a new, talented colleague, and he's already looking forward to it.

They take a half-hour break for some fresh air, and for Kame to get ready for the second round. He's got more to keep in mind for this scene; it's a few episodes in and there's backstory.

The nemesis has a restaurant. Never mind that his now-dead dad was some head-yakuza-loan-shark who drove Chef Inao's parents into suicide, he's decided he wants to get out of the family business and make his own path, fulfill his own dream, the usual. By this episode, Inao's already managed to hire on as chef.

The scene picked for the audition gets tense because dead dad's old yakuza pals aren't out of the picture, having provided a start-up loan for the restaurant, and of course they get treated to Inao's now-famous food. Inao will keep his cool around them, which Kame appreciates; he wouldn't like his first darker, revenge-driven character to be a self-sabotaging idiot. But he'll confront the nemesis afterwards, with a tirade full of ringing observations about dishonoured dreams and worthless methods. The usual, again. But now with drama.

Kame smiles to himself. He can put enough force into that to weed out the too-timid contenders, and find the one who'll give as good as he gets.

And they're ready to go.

*~*~*

The three men waiting are laughing when the door opens, and one of them, who reminds Kame eerily of Masaki from the club, quickly slips a gadget of some sort into his pocket. With him are Komine Anzai, whom Kame knows, and… Morioka. Morioka, his greeting not unfriendly, but restrained.

"Hello," Kame says. "Looks like we're destined to run into each other once a month."

"My agent submitted the application before consulting me," Morioka says. "Then I got an invitation." It's matter-of-fact, but Kame can read the defensiveness.

"Almost like a little reunion," he says. It's a lame joke but he doesn't know how else to make this normal.

"I saw," Morioka says pleasantly. "I ran into her while I was waiting. Energetic as ever."

"I thought so." Kame can't say more; it wouldn't be professional. "But I am glad your agency is keeping you busy," he tries instead, with a smile. What he's thinking is that this is one nemesis who'd definitely be able to hold his own.

Then he thinks of the scenes that will follow, the growing claustrophobia of their relationship, their connection being at the heart of the whole drama. Thinks of joint photo shoots and appearances and…

Ultimately, the selection is up to director and producer. For now he'll think of that.

*~*~* __

First up is the Masaki look-alike, whose real name is Suzuki, and he's good. When Kame gets right in his face about criminals and feeble excuses, he doesn't give a millimeter; not when Kame dials it up and gets as loud and hostile as he can be; not when it's his turn to defend himself, to shout about being trapped and the cost of dreams. The height helps, Kame thinks. It's a convincing performance.

He returns the man's bow when Funabashi and Haga dismiss him, and next, after Kame's had a few sips of water, is Morioka.

They square up, Kame at the table which is a kitchen counter now, Morioka three steps away where the door is meant to be. Kame can tell he is uncertain… and that's stupid, he's got no reason to be.

"Let's do this," he says under his breath, and Morioka gives him a quick, surprised look. "We both know how."

They do it. It feels different at once; same words, different vibe, building intensity with every traded barb, and Kame makes his move, snarling into his face, and Morioka stands his ground and— it turns quiet.

"You understand nothing," his nemesis says; slow, implacable. Kame takes breath to shout some more, there's a line left.

He lets it go. He's looking at his boss and the boss is looking back at him, down at him; the guy who could sack him and ruin all his plans. "I'll thank you to get out of my face," his boss says, and waits.

Kame backs down.

And Morioka lets himself fall heavily against the table, and his explanations and justifications are simply spoken, and tired, but it works, it works well, and they wrap up the scene just like it should be with both of them staring at the floor uncomfortably, and then it's silent.

Neither of them looks up at the production team, but they sneak each other a look. Kame thinks Morioka's says 'whoops', and his own says it right back.

"Thank you," Funabashi says at last. "Thank you, that was…"

"Unexpected," Haga supplies.

The director nods hastily. "Unexpected, yes. Interesting, though."

"Yes, interesting," Haga says.

"It was good," Kame says to Morioka as he is dismissed. He feels that tingly high he still gets from the job, though this isn't even a real set. "It was very good."

But ultimately, the selection is up to the director and producer.

*~*~*

Komine is little older than the other two, Kame's own age. They were in another school drama together. Kame sometimes thinks you could make a big chart with all the actors from one generation, and they'd all be connected through some school drama or other.

Komine's performance is solid: powerful and sure through his justification monologue after Kame's said his piece, not a moment of giving ground, and a nice touch when he clutches a pen from the table like an imaginary kitchen knife, and then the final shouting match before they come to a sheepish halt.

"Thank you," Funabashi says heartily, and Haga echoes him. Kame nods and adds his own thanks. Komine could certainly be a candidate, and he likes colleagues who know how to improvise, trust him to pick it up again.

Morioka does that, too. They can both just let it run sometimes, and know the other will keep pace.

And there's nothing to say that Suzuki would be bad at it, only it didn't occur to Suzuki to play the scene anything but straight.

"Would you agree?" Haga is saying, and Kame shakes himself out of his deliberations and gives the producer a little apologetic bow.

"I'm sorry, I was mentally reviewing the performances," he says quickly, as they sit around the table again. "Would you mind repeating?"

"Suzuki-san," Haga says. "Did what it says on the tin. He acted it well, and made a very reliable impression."

"He acted it well," Kame agrees.

"I liked Komine-san's little extra touch, though," the director considers. "It wasn't risky, not like Morioka-san's little departure, but it added something all the same."

"In what sense would you call Morioka-san's initiative 'risky'?" Kame can't help asking. Risky means that it could have gone wrong, but it didn't, and it wouldn't have. "I thought we got it to work rather well."

"It was certainly different," Haga says. "He had you intimidated for a while there, didn't he?"

Funabashi winces almost imperceptibly.

"He made my character rethink the wisdom of his actions, yes," Kame says, maybe a little more coolly than he should. "Under the circumstances, perhaps not such a bad thing?"

"I understand what you mean," Funabashi says. "I agree with you that this was the most powerful version of the scene. But you could handle the sudden shift. You're a professional with long experience behind you. If he does it to other people, people less confident or competent or yes, simply experienced, it could lead to problems and re-takes."

"He won't," Kame says. "If you read his resume, you'll know that I've worked with him before. He acted opposite all sorts of people then, and he didn't do it to them."

"We know," Haga says placatingly, "that you acted together. I've watched that movie, and I liked what I saw. It's one of the reasons we selected him for audition despite his relative inexperience."

"We ad-libbed a lot of that," Kame points out. He remembers the exhilaration, before it all went sour. He wouldn't have sworn they could still do it, despite what he said to Morioka. But they can. "The director had no complaints."

"Not about that, anyway," Funabashi says jovially, and Kame stiffens. What's that supposed to mean?

But he keeps it cool, gets past the stab of fear, makes the politely questioning face that goes with his more staid roles.

"Well," Funabashi continues, "it's clear that you feel strongly about the people you like to work with. And that young woman you championed certainly did an admirable job."

Oh. Kame feels his heart slowing again. _That._

"It was a great pleasure to work with Toyoda-san," he says, and manages a harmless smile. "I would certainly recommend her to any director." Not that that has anything to do with this.

"And now you are recommending this young… Morioka Akihito." Funabashi nods at the resume he's fished out of his briefcase again to remind himself of the details. "What do you say, Haga-san? If Kamenashi-san is certain that nothing will go wrong…"

Hang on. How did this turn out to be about him vouching for Morioka? He only clarified some facts about how they worked.

"We have to consider the inherent risks, though," Haga says, and sure, he's the producer, he's got to think in those terms.

"But Kamenashi has pointed out that there is no risk." Funabashi gives Kame a satisfied look. "Right?"

Kame gets it. Funabashi liked the performance. He liked Morioka. He just doesn't like responsibility.

"Right," he says.

Haga looks between them for a moment, then he shrugs. "I'm only the producer. I'll leave the artistic and personal judgements to the director and those who have to work with each other."

*~*~*

Kame stops at Starbucks for better coffee before heading back north for the spring fashion photo shoot scheduled late afternoon. He's not sure how he should feel about what just happened there.

He's not nervous, not really. Once he's got a few sips of hazelnut latte inside himself, leaning against his car in the brisk February air and with the warm cup in his hands, he feels it with more certainty. It was the rational choice, based on the best performance, and no personalities or paranoia interfering.

Midori will be pleased if he tells her how it went. Proud, too; she'll tell him it's sensible not to let a good thing slip away because of fanservice pictures and a newspaper article. She's right, even if she doesn't know how wrong she is.

Anyway, the director would have picked Morioka too, if he'd dared. Kame merely helped things along using his professional opinion. He nods to himself and takes another sweet sip. He still feels the buzz under his skin, looking back on that scene. Three months of that intensity, that sense of satisfaction… yeah.

He's looking forward to this drama.

 

### Saturday 21 February

"This is kind of freaky," Jin finally says in the chips and snacks aisle.

Between the huge shelves and oversized cartons, he feels like someone shrunk him and put him in an anime where everything's twice the normal size. He'll never look at the little coffee chocolates the same way again.

Tomo, who's swapped the red-and-white delivery gear for his black denim jacket, is pushing the deep cart with the bar stuff and Jin's new three-month supply of ramen, emergency candy and cheap tea. He grins at Jin. "I took Yoshi here one day. He looked a bit like you now in the sweets section. Spent all his money on a giant tub of gummi snakes."

In theory it makes sense that the little things shops offer in complimentary quantities must come from somewhere, but Jin's never seen the evidence live and up close. He's fascinated by the big box of fortune cookies and the packet sizes pretzel sticks come in.

Before them at the meat counter a guy is buying what amounts to half a cow _and_ her offspring.

Tomo buys some meat to freeze at home, too. "I haven't cooked for us in a while," he says, sounding pretty guilty for a guy working three jobs. They've worked down their lists quickly, Jin sticking close by so he wouldn't get lost and waste Tomo's time.

Tomo throws some energy drinks in the cart for himself, and a good-value pack of European chocolate bars that Yoshi can take to school. Jin adds flour and eggs after making sure Tomo won't get in trouble if he buys things in single-household quantities. In the cleaning and hygiene aisles he gets cheap kitchen roll and laundry detergent, and lots of very low-priced toilet paper. Shame they don't have his body lotion.

While they pay Jin checks his cell; Tomo was late getting off work and they're an hour behind their original plan, but good, Kame got his message. Not like they were supposed to be at Tanaka's before eight anyway.

After sorting out Jin's share of the check, they throw the stuff in the back of Tomo's van. Jin doesn't remember the last time he went shopping with someone. He's certainly never come home with enough food to outlast a zombie siege. He asks if he can buy Tomo a coffee for the ride home as compensation, and is glad when Tomo accepts.

When he comes back with the cups, Tomo is just getting off the phone. "Yoshi," he explains.

"Something wrong?" Jin asks as he hands over the hot steaming goods.

Tomo shakes his head. "No. Just letting him know we're going to yours now."

"I thought you called him earlier."

"Yeah, but. He gets weird sometimes. Worries. This is just easier. Anyway." He opens the car door for Jin and draws a slow flourish in the air with his coffee cup.

Yeah, anyway. "That was freaky," Jin repeats when they've settled and fiddled on their seatbelts one-handed. "Freaky but awesome."

Tomo just grins again. "It was fun." He has a sip, then tries to squeeze the cup into the little compartment at the side of the door. "Glad you found your stuff."

"I can hold that for you," Jin offers with a nod at Tomo's cup, but Tomo gives him sceptical eyebrows. Jin waves his hand with all five functional fingers.

"Okay, thanks," Tomo says, and hands the thing over before he starts the car.

Things have been just like that ever since he told Tomo the truth: a little funny and a lot easy. Now Jin holds two coffees and feels pretty normal with them. It's a good feeling.

"So, did you look at that apartment?" Tomo asks when they're out on the expressway. "Or was that tomorrow?"

"This morning," Jin says. He blushes a bit.

"How was it?"

"Nice," he says vaguely. "Cheap." The kitchen could have been all right with a bit of scrubbing, and he doesn't need that much sunlight anyway.

"Usually that's a contradiction," Tomo grins and holds his hand out for his coffee.

"Yeah, okay," Jin admits. He has to raise his voice because the car is rattling like a tin can with a loose lid. Tomo doesn't even notice. "It was a bit dark and the bathroom was kinda… well, it was just a bit old. It would have taken some cleaning. But the size was okay and it had a fridge and everything."

"Did it smell okay?" Tomo asks. "I'm, um, flexible with dirt but trust me, you don't want a mouldy sort of place. It's gross and it'll ruin all your stuff."

Oh. Not that he has much stuff but… maybe that's a good point. "Not sure," he says. "Mostly it smelled of food."

Tomo rolls his eyes.

"But I won't get it anyway. I think I messed up when the lady asked about money." He still wants to kick himself when he thinks of it.

"Oh? How come?"

"I didn't really know what to say. Totally stupid. I said something about savings but, well." He looks down at his very respectable Kame shirt. "I could see her not buying it. Interview was pretty much over then. I guess I don't look like the savings type."

Tomo glances over quickly because they're in traffic now. "I think that looks pretty respectable. Who do they expect, bankers?"

Jin shrugs. "Guess they don't expect whores either."

"Language," Tomo says, sounding like he's talking to Yoshi.

"Sorry." Jin sips his coffee.

"You're probably a much better bet as a tenant than a lot of people I know," Tomo says with quite a bit of indignation. They both know that's not the point, that Little Miss Real Estate Agent can't know Jin's mysterious savings come from regular and health-controlled fucking of respectable members of society, and not extortion or drugs. "I can see how she'd have got the wrong idea if you'd showed up in a slinky dress and fishnets, but…"

"No way," Jin mutters. "Dressing up costs extra."

And suddenly there it is again, a little flash of panic that he said too much, that no matter how cool it is, it can't be this easy.

"So you've got some?" Tomo says, looking very intrigued.

"No. Not my scene." He doesn't know what else to add; about the guys whose scene it is, or about other things that aren't his scene, or… what. He's not used to talking about this with anyone normal, like it's just a job, like it's just part of life and they're friends anyway.

Tomo has his eyes on the road. There's a thoughtful pause stretching into a silence. "I wouldn't freak out if you did, you know. Just by the way."

Jin blinks out the window and takes the intersection as an excuse to wait, because Tomo has to concentrate. "Yes. I know," he says at last. Tomo demands his coffee again and everything's still cool and there's a hundred packs of ramen in the back of Tomo's car. "It's a little hard to believe sometimes."

"You need a better imagination," Tomo decides. "And a better story for your money, that much we know now. Could you have inherited it?"

"I think it's more what I do now that's the problem," Jin thinks aloud. "But, okay. If my dad died…" It sounds creepy. "…and I had some money and was thinking about universities?" If he inherited money, that probably doesn't work well with waiting tables and saving up money to be a mechanic. "The waiter story really isn't that useful, I guess."

Tomo concedes that with a nod. "But it sounds like that place was a rathole, so you shouldn't have taken it anyway. I'll keep looking, and you'll have better luck next time."

"Thank you. Still…" He'd have preferred it to be his call.

"Test run," Tomo says, mostly unimpressed. "And at least you're doing stuff. Getting a move on." The dark conviction in his voice reminds Jin of something.

"The Slayer guy said last night that you might take over more stuff at the bar…?"

Tomo frowns, but Jin can tell by now it's not at him. "No, that's nothing. Nothing important. The manager wants me to do the books because I know the place best, but I don't really have a clue."

"Would you like to do that? I mean, if at some point they wanted to pay you for it…" Sometimes he gets really fed up with Tomo's bosses. "At some magical hypothetical future point, anyway."

Tomo knows what he means. This time he just sighs gloomily. "I'd like to know how, you know?"

"Did something happen?"

"He offered to send me to some evening classes for the bookkeeping. Nothing special, probably crappy anyway."

"You're not going?"

"Can't." Tomo shrugs. It's a kind of shrug Jin knows well. "Same nights as the parking job. We need that for rent."

Shit. "That sucks."

"It would probably be boring and I'd flunk all the tests, I haven't had anything to do with school in nearly a decade." Tomo shrugs again; it says 'whatever', but it's lying.

They're turning off the expressway, and the car stops making quite such a racket. Jin wants to say Tomo's boss is a jerk, because he is. Only this time it's not all his fault, it's just life.

"Hey. I was wondering," Tomo says suddenly. He gives Jin a quick look but by now he's got to watch out for retired people and other unpredictable risk factors. "What should I call your job?" He's blushing a little but he's still cool, just like before, just like about all the rest, and Jin thinks with a hitch that it's not about his sucky imagination, it's about Tomo, and Tomo is awesome.

"It must have a name. I don't want to keep going 'you know what' like some idiot, and I'm not going to call it… what _you_ say, so. Instruct me."

"Officially we're escorts." Jin wants to giggle, which is kind of crazy. "It's a stupid name, most of the clients are so deep in the closet, we don't escort them anywhere, ever. Except maybe very rarely to some dead secret party on a deserted island or so."

Tomo laughs. "Yeah, okay. It's still less stupid than the other name so if it's all right, I'll use that?"

It's totally all right.

Belatedly he thinks it was a bit unfair, to be saying this half an hour before Kame's coming to pick him up for a not-so-secret party at Tanaka's. A music party. Kame, of all people.

He smiles out the window, catching the Seiyu shopping center. He'll have to hurry to get changed, but at least he won't have to look like a perfect escort, he can just be some guy involved with music.

"What?" Tomo pulls him out of it. "What's funny?"

Jin shakes his head quickly. "Nothing. I swear."

"Right. So, once you're through all that food, we should do this again? Or before, if you can think of anything?"

"Yes," Jin nods. "I'd really like that."

"Cool."

They pull into Jin's street, overtaking some lady with a dog who often says hello to Jin when he goes to work in the afternoon. Tomo is already scouting for parking spots.

Jin sees the car first, because it's the biggest car around and the most impressive one, and then there's Kame, behind it on the sidewalk, with his phone. Jin thinks his heart isn't beating at all while Tomo slows down and signals for the curb with Kame's car just a few meters ahead, Kame's car and Kame, and it's when Kame sees him in the front of the van that all the blood comes back with a thump.

Tomo edges the van back and forth twice, and then he kills the engine. Kame is still there, not moving. Not moving at all.

Tomo looks at the house. At the street and then at Jin. He smiles. "Well?" he says. "Let's unpack those boxes, shall we?"

Jin can't smile and he can't think, and before he can come up with a brilliant idea, or any sort of idea, anything at all, Tomo's stepped out of the car, the door shutting behind him with a little metallic squeak.


	42. Chapter 42

### Saturday 21 February

Smart. Really fucking smart.

Kame waits for his stomach to crawl back up to where it's meant to be, wonders how dumb you can be, how reckless, and then puts on a smile because anything else would be worse.

They're going to a party. He even looks like a guy going to a party. Yamashita is locking his car and Kame makes very sure to keep smiling because he thinks he forgot briefly when Yamashita recognized him, he was busy with strange changes in the ground on an earthquake-free day.

Right then.

He gets a move on and when he's halfway there, it's clear Yamashita has stopped for him. Jin looks kind of ashen, and he's not as good at the smile thing as Kame.

"Hello," Kame says. "I'm sorry I'm early."

Jin's blinking at them both, like he's trying to sort out his thoughts. "I'm sorry I'm late," he says.

"Hi," says Yamashita, and nods.

"You got my message, right?" Jin asks rather quickly.

"Yes, I did. Sorry. I was just in the neighbourhood already." And dumb. And reckless. He can only hope Jin told his friend about a party, not about evening plans with a client. A random client somewhere, who doesn't indulge his impulses and finds it cute to wait at the curb.

He smiles some more.

"Guess that was my fault," Yamashita says with a very small bow. "I got out of work late."

"It's really fine," Kame assures him. "We'd be way too early anyway, I was just…" Maybe he should bring up the party.

"I just need to unpack and then I'll get changed," Jin promises.

Unpack?

"We were shopping," Jin explains, and right, his e-mail had said he'd got delayed at some Metro or something.

"Can I help?" Kame asks, with Yamashita already throwing the back doors of the van open. Kame resists the urge to watch him until he can catch the one facial expression which will tell him what he thinks, where they stand now. What conclusions can a guy draw from knowing about Jin, from their friendship, from… actors can have big cars, it doesn't mean they have to be clients?

"It's okay," Jin is saying, "it won't take—"

"Of course," says Yamashita with an inscrutable look. "The more hands, the faster you guys can get a move on, right?"

"Right," Kame echoes. He's handed two boxes full of shiny little packages. Green plastic, pork flavour… ramen. Yamashita hands Jin what looks like a restaurant's supply of kitchen roll; then he balances another box on his hip while he locks up the car.

It's cramped in the elevator, all their boxes bumping into each other. Kame might have suggested a different procedure, but he's got no say here. This isn't his day for bright ideas anyway.

"Is there a special occasion for this?" he tries when the silence gets kind of loud. He taps the carton hopefully.

"Huh? No," Jin says. "It's just cheaper."

"A lot cheaper?"

"Yeah. A lot cheaper." He nods at Yamashita, who nods vaguely in acknowledgement. "Tomo's got a card for this place, everything's huge. And a lot cheaper."

"That's great," Kame says, and Yamashita gives him a quiet look that makes Kame blush without knowing why.

*~*~*

Jin's tiny apartment is radiant with early evening light. The fuzzy glow makes it look cozy and private and like he shouldn't be here, even before Yamashita and Jin start speculating that Jin might have to move stuff around to accommodate his loot.

Yamashita puts his box on the floor next to the bathroom. Kame thinks the kitchen counter is a good place for ramen. But once he's got his hands free he feels even more out of place.

Jin pulls the ramen close and his eyes meet Kame's; but they can't tell each other much now. Kame tries to show he doesn't blame Jin at all, he was the stupid one here, but that's hard to get across on two blinks and a harmless face.

"Shall we bring up the rest while you distribute?" Yamashita, being efficient, voice and expression reminding Kame uncomfortably of punctiliously non-judgemental club personnel.

Jin is hesitating, eyes flicking back and forth between them.

It would make sense. It would be a very normal thing to do. "I think that's a good idea," Kame says, nodding so he can look just as efficient. He can handle the club waiters, he can handle this too.

Jin looks only marginally more convinced, but he lets them go.

So then Kame's in an elevator with Jin's friend, who knows about Jin's job. A very tiny, very quiet elevator, and Kame's not sure what's worse, when Yamashita is staring at the door or when he turns soft dark eyes on Kame.

"We're going to a party," Kame says. Stops because much as he'd like to add details, about nice known rappers and music, he can't drag Tanaka into this, too.

Yamashita looks at him with a weird harmlessness that could hide anything at all. "A party, huh?" he says. They're down to ground level before he adds, "A party. That's great."

He knows.

Kame follows him out of the elevator and out of the house, and doesn't try to say anything else. He doesn't know how to be normal about this; he should have made himself a script when Jin first told him Yamashita knew about the club. Or should have… stopped seeing Jin in this part of town, stopped seeing Jin outside, stopped seeing Jin…

Yamashita doesn't say anything else, either, just keeps it up with his efficiency and hands Kame the toilet paper, four large packs for each hand.

"Thanks," Kame says.

Yamashita's bags seem heavy. Kame just finds it difficult to get through doors. It would make sense to take the elevator separately. But nobody suggests it.

"It's handy you can shop in bulk like that," he tries again while trying to breathe as little as possible. It's lame, but he doesn't want Jin's friend to tell Jin Kame was rude to him. This is bad enough already. "Is it because of your job at the bar?"

"Yes," Yamashita says. He props his bags up higher and stares at the slow flickers of light from the floors they pass. The cuffs of his everyday jacket are frayed, and the jeans have seen a few trends come and go. Kame is dressed down for a private party and still he feels pretentious in his tastefully ripped designer jeans.

Jin trusts this man. And it's not like the man has proof. And Jin trusts him.

"That's a nice car you have," Yamashita says. "What year is it?"

*~*~*

As they come through the door, Jin's pulling a thin tight sweater down over the last centimeters of bare skin, a final glint of jewelry disappearing. He's kicking the wardrobe door shut at the same time and giving them a flushed, dishevelled look. The boxes and bags are still sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Almost ready to go," he says to Kame, and his glance at Yamashita seems more sheepish than anything else. "Just, hair." He runs an impatient hand through the strands.

"You look _fine_ ," Kame says, and… Jin looks more than fine, he looks amazing, slender in tight dark jeans and that close-fitting top; but Kame can't say more because there's Yamashita—

—who says, "You didn't put the ice cream and the squid away, did you?"

"Oh shit." Jin stops halfway through the bathroom door and looks around frantically. "I forgot there was… I just remembered all the toilet pa—" His eyes come to rest on Kame again. "Uh, thanks, Kame. Just dump it somewhere."

Kame nods. "Where's the ice cream?"

"I know where the ice cream is," Yamashita says. He waves Jin away. "You go do whatever you need to do to your hair."

Jin blinks worriedly from one of them to the other.

"Go," Kame says. He and Yamashita survived an elevator ride together; he thinks they'll be okay for five more minutes of organizing Jin's sugar stash.

Yamashita has dug into one of the boxes that came up in the first load, and is lining up four different tubs of Ben & Jerry's and three packs of vacuum-sealed squid. Kame has the small freezer open and finds himself confronted with unexpected quantities of pizza. He stops and thinks.

Suddenly Yamashita is next to him, peering over his shoulder.

"Oh, the two-for-one sale at the Seiyu last week," he says. "We got some too."

Jin's got mostly salami. Kame wonders if Yamashita thinks it's weird he's rummaging around in Jin's freezer, but then Yamashita freely volunteered freezer information about himself and…

"How is your brother?" Kame says carefully as he starts to take the pizzas out. "The end of the school year is coming up, isn't it?"

"Hey, why are you taking— oh. I see. He's fine," Yamashita says, and starts helping him remove pizza from boxes. "Complains about homework. I think that means he's fine." It's a non-committal answer but Yamashita gives him a half-smile suggesting Kame's question wasn't out of line.

"Keep a set of instructions," Kame cautions. He sticks it to the refrigerator with the Verdy magnet that's a sole bright spot in Jin's white plastic kitchen. "Just in case."

By the time he's done, Yamashita has started putting the boxless pizzas back in, and now there's room for the ice cream and, after they shift things around very carefully, for the squid, too.

"It's squid," Yamashita finds. "Guess it can get a bit squidged."

They close the door, and Kame starts to move toilet paper out of the way while Yamashita stacks ramen by flavour, and less than a minute later Jin comes out of the bathroom.

"Ready now," he announces, and—

Kame holds his breath; it's the only way he won't embarrass them both.

Jin looked great before but now he's stunning, his cheekbones brought out by the subtly tousled hair and the way even the slim cut of the clothes draws attention to his face, his—

Better to look away.

Kame's eyes fall on Yamashita, standing with a pack of ramen in his hands and staring at Jin, too. Looking spooked, and not happy.

Jin's focused on the pile of cardboard. "Hey, why did you guys take my pizzas out?"

"It's just boxes," Kame says. His former co-conspirator says nothing. "For room. For your ice cream obsession. You never said you were so into that." Obsession is a stupid word.

"I'm not. It's just, it's the good stuff. Cheaper than the cheap stuff. This'll last me a while." Jin shoots a look at his coat rack and the thick winter coat, then considers. "Cars all the way, right?"

When Kame nods, he gets a soft-looking black leather jacket out of his wardrobe and slips into that; and stops slowly as he turns back, fumbles his hands into his trouser pockets.

He's noticed Yamashita's look, Kame thinks.

"So, uh, we'll go, then?" Jin says.

He looks from Kame to Yamashita and back, stops somewhere in between. Yamashita hasn't looked at Kame again at all.

Kame nods, because somebody has to.

Outside, it's more thanks for Yamashita, and Jin asks something about Wednesday in a tone that seems way too uncertain. Yamashita nods emphatically, yes, Wednesday whatever, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes, and when he wishes them both fun at the party, his glance barely skitters towards Kame.

It started okay, Kame thinks. At the beginning, it wasn't so bad. He's not sure what he's done to make it go wrong.

*~*~*

"Sorry about that," Jin says, as soon as they're around two corners and on the main road.

"My fault," Kame returns at once. The van drove off in a different direction and Kame is starting to feel blissfully anonymous in early Saturday evening traffic, even with his sleek car and with Jin looking gorgeous in the seat next to him. "I should have stayed in the car."

"If I'd mentioned I was with Tomo…"

"You couldn't know I'd be showing up earlier anyway." Jin would be right to be mad at _him_.

"Yeah, but…" Jin shrugs slowly.

"I'm sorry I made it awkward for you. I don't know what I was thinking." Except he was done with work, and his brain said ' _Jin_ ' and he didn't question it. They're still early for a party of grown-ups in the entertainment industry, and he really doesn't know what his plan was – make out with Jin for an hour in the _car_?

"You think he's figured it out, too," Jin says, and Kame takes a deep breath.

From the way Yamashita looked at Kame… and at Jin, different, but saying the same thing. He figured it out right enough.

"He didn't say anything," Kame offers. "Nobody actually said anything. That's good. I'll deal."

And Jin can't help being pretty. Kame can't help being rich. It wouldn't have to mean anything, if they'd been luckier, somewhere along the line.

"I'll tell him he's got it wrong," Jin decides. "We're just… friends, and hang out, and—"

"Don't." Kame can't take his eyes off the road, much as he'd like to. He reaches out, just to touch Jin, briefly, he hopes soothingly. "You don't lie well."

"All I'd be lying about is… the job part." Jin sounds brave, and something twists inside Kame. Maybe he should pull off the road. This time when he puts his hand on Jin's thigh, he keeps it there, turns his palm up until Jin gets the message and wraps cold fingers around Kame's.

"He didn't like the job part," Kame says.

"That's why—"

"That's why you can't lie to him about it. He's not blaming you. Don't fall out with him, okay?"

He can feel Jin nod without looking, holding on.

*~*~*

They're on the expressway when Jin, who appointed himself radio handler eventually, stops skipping between music stations after every song. "Hey. Aren't we actually kind of early? For a party like that?"

"A little," Kame says apologetically. "I really wasn't thinking. I'll… drive slowly?" He lets the gas pedal come halfway up, and Jin laughs at him as the speed drops.

In the end, their problem is solved by roadworks and some caution freaks where the lanes merge. They'll still not be fashionably late but, Jin says comfortably, probably won't be drafted for carrying the beer crates.

Kame keeps his distance to a Prius in front of him, and at the slow speed he risks a glance. Jin looks even more beautiful with his confidence coming back.

"You look really great, by the way," he says earnestly. "Like… that's a really good outfit."

Jin looks down his front with a little smile. "Guess it got me in trouble, too, huh?"

"It's great," Kame insists, and blushes. "Thank you."

Jin holds still for a moment before he slumps down in the seat. His voice is warm. "I'm glad you like it. I haven't worn it before."

Kame bites his lip, and maybe it's good they're getting to the end of the bottleneck, good he has to focus. "It might be a good thing I didn't take a taxi," he jokes.

"Cause you'd start feeling me up?"

"I might." He's survived worse blushing, too.

"What," Jin says slowly, and in an entirely too deep voice. "You can't multitask?"

At least they're both a bit red in the face. Kame almost feels vulnerable in his jeans, the way he wouldn't in a suit, but it's a nice warmth, too. He's almost not holding his breath when, once they're back at normal speed, Jin reaches for his idle hand and puts it back on his thigh.

Okay. Kame can totally drive like this; it's a smooth ride on the expressway and he won't need that hand again for at least another twenty minutes.

After a minute, Jin sinks deeper into his seat, spreading out a little, and the way Kame's fingers slip into the gap between his thighs and up towards heat is so… so…

"You are evil," Kame remarks, wiggling his fingers and making Jin jump. "I'm going to get you for that later."

Jin squirms, just on the Jin side of suggestive. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Kame breathes out slowly and tries not to have any other embarrassing reactions that Jin would tease him about.

Not that that would be a bad thing either.

*~*~*

"If someone asks where we me—"

"I'll play drunk and dumb," Tanaka interrupts Kame, "and refer them to you. Or to Jin." He's lounging easily on one of the giant leather couches pushed against the glass front of his sprawling living room, stripped of plants and precious rugs in honour of the occasion. Outside, the garden is dotted with coloured lanterns, their lights reflecting off the pool, which will be strictly off limits tonight despite the built-in heating. Tanaka told them the slightly disgusting reason behind that. "I'm assuming you got your stories straight by now."

"A party," Kame says. "And then we get out of the conversation, whatever it takes."

He glances across to the bar, where Jin is being shown some trick with cream and a spoon, and doesn't look like anybody is asking him difficult questions.

"Ah," Tanaka says.

"Where's Sakura?" Kame asks, and Tanaka pulls a woeful grimace.

"In my bedroom with some smelling salts. Just seemed safer. She'd like the company, I'm sure, but… so much booze, so many feet…"

Kame nods. "I wouldn't risk it, either." Ran-chan would be okay, but a poodle the size of a rat…

"I'll look in on her ever so often," Tanaka says, sounding like he's trying to console himself more than the dog. "And I got her some special treats."

Kame resists the urge to pat his hand and tell him it'll be okay.

There's silence. Not many people arrived earlier than they, and the bulk of guests is still to come. It's possible to talk quietly, now that the hired help has their instructions and the early birds have their drinks.

Jin's got the spoon and is carefully pouring cream all over it, worrying a corner of his lips between his teeth.

Tanaka takes a sip from his highball. "That outfit makes him look kind of—"

"Hot?" Kame grins. "No poaching."

"Underage," Tanaka counters, and quickly rescues his foot from a well-aimed kick. "Okay, and hot."

Whatever Jin was doing has resulted in a drink of very uninviting appearance. There's some discussion, and back and forth over the glass, and then Jin drinks it with an air of finality.

"So, you two are doing okay?" Tanaka says.

"Yeah." Except when Kame acts like an idiot and gets them in trouble with Jin's friends. "We're doing fine. Thanks for letting us come even though…"

Tanaka never has a partner at these events. Too big, too public, and as host he's too conspicuous.

"Midori says hi, by the way," Kame remembers. "She's sorry she couldn't make it."

"Hi back," Tanaka says. "She's busy these days, isn't she."

"She got more responsibility at her company. She likes it, though."

"Good for her," Tanaka considers, and Kame takes another sip of water.

Yeah. Good for her.

"And your work?"

Kame smiles. "I can't complain. The new drama is great. And there's that movie, about the assassin—"

"The movie you're drooling for?"

Kame thought he'd been quite laid back and cool. "I don't _drool_." He looks around quickly to see if Jin heard that… "Anyway," he says quickly when Tanaka grins. "I'm getting to audition for it." The script sounds amazing already.

Tanaka gives him an indulgent look. "Good luck, then, killer of emperors. Hey, are you sure you don't want something real to drink? A muddy green substance mixed by our newest bartending recruit, maybe? I'll have limos on stand-by."

Kame shakes his head. "No, I want to take the car. I'll have a sip of Champagne when you break that out for the— where are your Oricon boys, anyway?"

"Boys and girls," Tanaka grins. "That's them around the little round table there."

Kame thinks that for a band celebrating their break into the Oricon top twenty, they're pretty subdued and hushed. Behind them, music videos are playing on Tanaka's giant flatscreen. "Oh, give them time to warm up," Tanaka says when he mentions it. "Lots of things on their mind. The sudden fame actually puts them in a bit of a bind, a couple aren't sure they can commit the time. They're still figuring out what to do."

That doesn't sound so great. "Are you worried?"

"Nah." Tanaka swirls the ice in his drink. "Advantage of having a pretty big group and anyway, their rep's based on the music. If anybody's the face of the band, that's Misa-chan and she's definitely staying on."

Misa-chan is the fairly serious-looking woman Kame's age, with red hair, black nails and a blue drink, and oh, of course, they met before. Her hair was green then.

None of them are as young as he had expected from an up-and-coming rock formation, which Tanaka tells him is part of the challenge; the keyboarder has a day job in medicine and one of the guys has a wife with a kid on the way and is thinking of going for a university job instead of the rough and tumble of touring and promoting.

"I guess that's not an easy job either," Kame says, and Tanaka looks like he can't decide if he wants to agree emphatically or point out that being the producer really sucks much worse. Kame grins at him.

Jin is pouring something fluffy and, yes, green into a tall glass, beaming proudly when it finds the bartender's approval. He's chatty; happy, and Kame is still drinking in the sight when Tanaka nudges him and claims he is getting jealous.

*~*~*

They stop lurking in the couch corner once the place fills up. Tanaka needs to mingle and Jin wants to be with Kame; and a few people down the road, "This is Akanishi Jin, he's a friend of mine and he knows more about music than I" is coming very smoothly, nobody even blinks.

They get stuck for a while with a couple of middle-aged men who are arguing over who should or shouldn't have been hired by or left Black Sabbath. Kame would have moved on quickly, but Jin actually seems to have an opinion, so they stay until the older guys run out of booze and head for the bar again.

"Sorry about that," Jin says afterwards. "Only, there's a lot of bitchfighting going on there just now."

"Ah," Kame says. When Jin looks at him uncertainly, he shoots him a smile. He likes it when Jin has opinions. Also knows it makes them less suspicious than if he just clung shyly to Kame.

Kame thought he'd feel on shakier ground. But Jin blends in easily, and the more everybody drinks, the less likely they are to notice that occasionally Kame gets flustered by Jin's hips and Jin wearing a soft thin sweater he's not worn for anyone else.

They say hello to a few more people, and then they're interrupted by the industrial crash from the start of one of Tanaka's albums, on high volume and fading out quick. It sure shuts everybody up.

This is when Tanaka tells them all why they're here, being wined and dined and about to be handed glasses of Dom Perignon. He introduces the band, who are smiling and bouncy now and changed into rock star clothes, and then the glasses go round as they pick up their instruments.

They're not bad, Kame thinks. Not even Tanaka's spacious living room is made for impromptu rock gigs, and the sound is muted, the whole thing a bit like a family event. Misa has presence at the front, though, beyond her bright hair, and there's a lovely duet section with one of the guitarists. Their PV is playing in the background. Next to him Jin is moving to the music, so lightly he might not even know it.

He's not the only one. The beat's captured the crowd, and the applause is loud when they finish. Then someone points to the screen where the PV is still running silently, and the room goes loud with laughter at Misa's _oops_ face. Jin is grinning.

There are more congratulations, and promises to take over the world, or at least the world of Shibuya clubs and college bars.

"He's a really good drummer," Jin says with a nod towards the guy. Kame hasn't noticed him; he finds their bassist more intriguing, with her spiky hair and _Die Hard_ type undershirt. "I've heard this in shops, but it's different, seeing it." And a moment later, "I wonder who writes their songs. There was a chance for a—"

"Refills, anybody?" A man in low-slung camouflage pants with his baseball cap on sideways brandishes a magnum bottle. Kame thinks he's a semi-famous rap buddy of Tanaka's. This is a pretty do-it-yourself party.

Jin gets more Champagne, and Kame adds to it what's left in his own glass. Then they pick up some water at the bar.

"Well, what do you think?" Tanaka's voice says behind them.

"Very nice water," Kame says quickly, before Jin can open his mouth. He nods sombrely.

"Very nice Champagne," Jin adds after a brief pause.

"Very nice, uh, plants, too," Kame says, indicating the party-proofed room. "Love what you've done with the place."

Tanaka cuffs them both. "I'll throw you into the pool."

"Do you think there's something to this rap and violence theory?" Jin stage-whispers to Kame.

"The guy with the Champagne seemed tame…"

"Seriously, guys, what do you think?" Tanaka turns to Jin. "Maybe I should just ask you, since Kamenashi here doesn't know what he's talking about anyway."

"I like it," Jin says. "It's got a simple chord progression, but there's a lot of interesting stuff going on inside it. It builds a lot of mood. And they work well together. I'd like to see what they do on a real stage."

"Perfect answer," Tanaka says. "Kame, you should keep this one. Maybe I'll get you tickets sometime, eh?" He winks, before propelling them towards the couch where they started. "Here, have a seat with the production side of the geniusing, so you can see where all the real work is done."

So they meet the cover designer and the mixer, and a woman of at least fifty who smokes cigars and drinks whisky, and whom Tanaka introduces as the head of a small marketing agency. "She's been promoting my stuff since my first single," he says, "and now she's doing JUNGLELOW, too."

She nods and tells them about how she got TV shows interested in Tanaka years back by sending in photos of his poodle. Jin seems a little intimidated by her at first, but soon takes to her blunt sense of humour. Kame asks who came up with calling the band JUNGLELOW to begin with, while Jin wants to know what the black tulips and icicles on the cover mean.

JUNGLELOW are back, mingling with the crowd, waving here and there. Kame notes the bassist is now wearing a different kind of boyish gear and seems just as gruff as before.

"I was wondering how they'd come back," Jin says close to his ear, leaning into Kame for his confession. "Who'd be the rock type in general." The drummer is in classy black slacks very different from their performance clothes.

"I wonder if he's got the matching dinner jacket backstage," Kame whispers back, which makes Jin laugh.

"Maybe they wrestled it off him so he doesn't ruin their image completely."

Jin's close enough that he can smell him, warmth and a hint of spice. They're not at the club but it feels safe anyway, they're friends; Jin is a cheerful friend whose eyes never linger too long.

The marketing manager finishes her whisky with a head-toss and a clink of ice cubes, and licks her lips. "Nice stuff," she says. "Much better than that piss they try to pass off as whisky in bars."

"Oh, this is nothing," Tanaka says.

 _Here we go_ , Kame thinks as Tanaka launches into a description of some limited edition whisky that would have been bottled in a neolithic burial mound on a wet island in the year she went into junior high. Kame knows the drill; he also knows the stuff, which is just as good as advertised.

The manager listens patiently and then she looks down into her glass, and searchingly across the table.

"Well? Where is it?"

Tanaka laughs. "Hidden from stumbling drunks and the uninitiated in a place few know to find." A number that sometimes includes Tanaka; Kame nudges him and grins, remembering their whisky expedition one night when Tanaka had been too plastered to find as much as a light switch.

"I agree, it would be wasted on all these young folk," he says gravely, which earns him some chuckles, and a warm spread down his collar when Jin's smile hits him. Harmless and friendly.

God, that sweater.

"How old is it?" the manager wants to know. "If it's older than me, I demand for youth to be educated."

"Want me to get it?" Kame says quietly to Tanaka. "I'm completely sober and I know the way."

Tanaka looks surprised, but then he nods gratefully. "Cool. Thank you." He spreads his arms wide, not entirely sober anymore himself. "I love having helpful friends!"

Kame rises, touching Jin's shoulder until Jin looks up at him, which is a good angle and a bad, _bad_ angle for staying cool, but somehow Kame manages. "I need somebody to protect me from the ghosts down there."

Jin blinks. "Uh…"

"It's the bad rhymes, and the violence," Tanaka says in a low voice. "Corpses buried everywhere. He needs you."

That last sentence sounds… Kame wants to throw him a sharp look. But Jin's standing up, and somehow he doesn't look worried. "I'll bring him back in one piece," he promises.

Kame feels tipsy.

"Don't steal my skateboard collection!" Tanaka calls after them.

"If you fuck with me about ghosts," Jin threatens under his breath, "I'll tickle you to death."

"To death?" Kame asks over his shoulder.

Jin frowns. "To squeals for mercy," he compromises.

Kame leads them past the study where Tanaka moved all the breakable stuff, to the door into the cellar. There are white walls along the stairs and handy light switches. Kame breathes in long and slow after he's closed the door behind them.

"How are you?" he asks. "Are you having fun?"

Jin turns at the bottom of the stairs and rolls his eyes at him. That angle again. "You can't tell?" But then his face softens as Kame finishes the last three steps.

The light is ugly and the floor is naked concrete, and Jin is beautiful.

Kame points the way towards the room with the booze; hangs back just a little to make the most of his chance to just _look_ ; and with the bright lights Jin seems to have forgotten his fear of Kame's sinister plans.

"Hmm," he is saying, peering through a lattice door on the left into a room full of gardening equipment.

"What?"

"I don't see any corpses." Jin pouts thoughtfully, before turning a slow, intent gaze on Kame. "The only bodies down here are pretty nice ones."

Kame ignores the sudden flutter in his stomach, casts a look around. "Hello?" he says quite loudly. "I'm going to turn off the lights and lock the door now!"

When he turns back to Jin, Jin's face has lost all dreaminess. His eyes are big. "You're not really going to turn the light off?" he protests. "We'd miss the stairs on the way up and we haven't even found the whis—"

Kame gets his hands on him, gets close, walks him right against that bare cellar wall.

"The light stays on," he murmurs, stretching up just a little, his mouth close to Jin's ear. "Because I want to see you."

"Oh," Jin breathes, and then his mouth opens and Kame shudders from a soft and secret kiss.

"Bodies, huh?" he whispers, not that that makes any sense. He can feel Jin smile and that sweater is nothing, a flimsy little thing and Kame blinks down to see his hands on it, stroking Jin through the clingy dark fabric. Down where they're pressed together, Kame can feel he's not the only one whose trendy jeans are suddenly too tight.

He kisses Jin again, deeper now, and Jin's head strains back with a gasp when Kame moves down to his neck, and sneaks his hand under that sweater and finds goosebumps on Jin's skin. Jin's found his hips, clumsy clutches at Kame's jeans that make Kame giddy, and when he moves so they fit against each other better Jin giggles breathlessly until he suddenly stops, and shudders to a halt.

"I'm gonna come. If you keep it up— I'm gonna get in trouble."

Kame pulls back. Jin is breathing hard, his head against the stark white wall, his flush splodgy under the harsh light.

Beautiful.

"Can't have that," Kame says, leaning his forehead against Jin's shoulder. He can't stop himself from a little wriggly teasing, and there's a shy slow thrust back.

"Later?" Jin says.

For a crazy, insane moment Kame considers dropping to his knees and sucking him off, because they're here, and Jin is hot, and it would be… it would be amazing, he can picture it right there.

But he's not that insane, and he's been enough of an idiot today already.

"Later," he says. "I'm looking forward to it."

They walk the rest of the corridor a little unsteadily, both preoccupied with awkward adjusting; Kame tries to come up with some blood-chilling thoughts that aren't quite as dire as the idea of being found out.

Tanaka's wine selection is pathetically small but he does keep a shelf with outrageously expensive spirits and some less expensive but hard-to-find cocktail ingredients. Kame picks up the limited edition Highland Park, amused that with what Jin's used to from the club, the impressive selection fails to impress him entirely.

On the way back to the stairs, Jin takes his hand. There's a quick press that reminds them about later, and a happy little shiver that is all about now.

### *~*~*

Tanaka's druid-distilled whisky has met with general approval in their little circle. Jin sits close but not too close to Kame, who also tried a tiny sip but left the rest on the table. He sees the designer finish her husband's measure without ceremony and wishes he could do that, too, and not because he's so keen on the whisky.

But he can't. Somehow a mention of cobwebs in cellars has turned into an inquisition into Tanaka's bachelor status. He's handling it well, Jin thinks, seems like he's used to it and has all the answers on tap. Jin tries not to think of Kame's hands feeling hot and desperate through his clothes. Not thinking about that here is… smart.

Instead, he looks around again. He wonders what Tanaka usually does in this living room, because it's bigger than Jin's entire apartment. It's bigger than _Kame's_ apartment. How much room to live does a guy need?

"He likes to collect ornaments of all sorts," Kame says quietly in his ear. "Statues, screens, Kabuki costumes and fans. Like that large one over there." A big fan full of swirly colours dominates the ceiling corner across from them, out of reach of them all. "Normally it's all over the place, but he's cleared a lot of the more fragile stuff away to give people room to move. I guess it's in the basement, if you'd like a look." He grins. It's a good grin, like he's not sorry about what nearly happened down there.

"I've always been interested in, uh, ornaments," Jin offers.

But they both know they're not going back there, and it's okay, it just feels good to talk about it, even in this weird way.

Then they jump when Tanaka exclaims, "Food!"

A door opens, and food comes on platters and large metal steam pans with flames underneath. A silent troop of white-clad people set it up within two minutes and then are gone again, like magic. Pretty impressive.

He and Kame go to inspect the offerings together, but then Kame gets waylaid near the chilli soba by a woman he met at a previous party, who's asking after his wife. With a quick smile and a wave just so Kame knows things are okay, Jin removes himself from the picture and goes to investigate Tanaka's impressive assortment of pickled vegetables.

"These ones are very good." A finger with an untidily bitten nail points at the dark purple slices. "Some wine concoction in there, I think."

Jin looks up, and it's the rapper guy who poured them Champagne earlier, and he's smiling.

They end up on a couple of fold-out chairs in a corner with their plates propped up on their knees, a colourful array of pickles on each of them.

"Soft, full flavour," Jin says, chewing on a pink one. "Notes of cherry, delicately laced with mustard." He's heard guys go on like that about wine in the club. "Light sweetness on the finish," he concludes, and the rapper guy laughs, and tries to make something up for the next one.

Turns out, once talk moves on from pickles, that he's not a rapper at all, but a photographer who's done some shoots for Tanaka and was involved in the cover for the band. Jin wheels out a version of the waiter story again, and feels a little guilty. But there's nothing else he can do.

He wonders what Tomo is thinking now. He was right after all, it _was_ too easy. He can't blame Tomo for being smart and putting the pieces together, or for being freaked out when it was suddenly all there in front of him and real.

But they're still good for Wednesday, and that's a relief.

And now he's at a party, with Kame, and there are nice people and the music is good, too, varied with moments of rock, hip-hop, even some poppy tunes and the odd bit of jazz here and there. Something for everybody. He's eating pickles chatting with a friendly rap photographer, and officially this is _work_.

He glances at Kame but Kame seems fine, there's none of that tension of trying to be super polite. So he sits back, lets some bass-heavy beat get under his skin, and listens to a funny story about getting Tanaka to hold a pose under pounds of chain mail.

The music picks up and people stop eating. You can still talk, but there's movement and buzz, and— "I believe I heard my name?"

Tanaka, swooping in from nowhere. He looks boozy and content, and makes some interesting flapping motions with his hands.

"Only in praise," says the photographer.

"Slander, no doubt."

"You came across very fierce," Jin professes and only grins a little.

Tanaka makes a _pffft_ sound and does that shooing thing again. "Whatever, talking over, it's dancing time! Over there!" There is indeed a space now where the buffet was. Some people are cautiously standing around it. "Up you get, shake those hips," Tanaka prods them, and moves on to the next group as soon as they're standing and looking sheepishly at each other. But the music is good and then Tanaka is back with more victims, and Jin lets himself be pulled along.

Suddenly lights come on around the open space; some sort of lasers, making it look like a projected boxing ring. That's pretty cool.

Jin's not the only one who giggles as he steps through and a green laser hits his stomach. He looks for Kame again, who… is sitting comfortably and smiling, looking like dancing's not on the menu this century. Jin raises his eyebrows in question, and Kame toasts him encouragingly over the head of whoever he's talking to.

Tanaka is already jumping and spinning happily. There are some other guys and a woman who are also good with the hip-hop moves, while the rest of them are happy to stay on the fringes and do their own thing, knowing that everybody's focus will be on the experts in the middle.

Jin shifts his weight, his first cautious moves imitating some low-key swaying of a woman a few steps away; that seems easy, unremarkable.

He keeps it simple, just picks up the rhythm, not fast but pulsing, you always wait for the next one. Someone turns the volume up and there's a sigh like release in the crowd, and Jin smiles as the song gets more insistent, at no one in particular but people smile back at him anyway.

He stops thinking, stops watching. He knows this, and it's like the music knows him. The beat winds around him, showing him what to do, and if he lets it it goes through him, moves him, it's easy, like he's never done anything else.

When a faster song comes on with a harder beat it picks him up, too, a different kind of intense, all of them together making the floor shake to the drums and the bass. With the lights going on and off and the shadows leaping, it's like a ritual.

After a couple of those the music slows again, turns languid and intimate, and it's different from singing but great. Like talking to the music and feeling every answer. There's a guy next to him who seems to hear a different language and it might be awkward, but the guy's enjoying it too. There's Tanaka with his wide happy movements, the shy people at the edge. A girl swaying with her hands high above her head. A woman, the lead singer with the red hair smiling at him, looking… she's taking him in. All of him.

Jin falls out of the beat. Moves his legs a step but it just feels like a stumble. She's still smiling at him, in a way he knows, about his ass or his mouth or the lovely way he'll spread out—

Shit. He pulls in his head and his shoulders, tries to shake it off as he turns away but it's no use. Slowly, through the screen of a dozen people, he inches towards the bar, and every step the music is undressing him.

He gets himself a drink, a small, strong one, and he drinks it. It's not the ancient wonderdrink, and he wants to think it's just cheap and just right, only he knows nothing here is cheap. Kame…

Kame is still in conversation. Good for him. Good for them. Kame's got better things to do than hold his hand through a dancefloor freak-out. He just wishes not so many people had seen him out there.

The bartender tops up his glass without asking, winks at him like an old friend. Jin takes that one slower. He doesn't want to get drunk on Kame, either. After a while he manages some chit-chat about a bartender's schedule and whether the guy got anyone to sneak him some food. He doesn't even look for Kame much.

Which is why he starts when Kame says, "Hey there," right next to him and nudges him in the side.

"Hi," Jin says, and smiling's not that hard.

"Stopped dancing?" Kame nods at… over there, behind Jin's back, and Jin doesn't need to turn around.

"For now," Jin says; it's easiest.

"You looked good."

"What about you, you didn't even start."

Kame smiles a little shyly. "Not my scene. It's complicated. I wouldn't know what to do anyway."

Jin's about to protest that nobody cares, that that's not the point, but it's not like he's about to drag Kame up there now, so he thinks better of it. "So how have you been spending your time?"

"Well, actually," Kame says, "there seems to be this disturbing trend where I get cornered by music types whenever you're not around to help me out." He waves at a vaguely familiar looking guy in the couch corner. "Shall I introduce you?"

On closer examination the music type turns out to be the band's second vocalist and guitarist. He's wearing glasses now and looking more like the type to lecture about music than to play it on a stage. But that's fine; Jin figures being lectured about music could be relaxing right now.

"Tsukioka Kinji, Akanishi Jin," Kame says. "Akanishi-san likes rock music, too."

"Hi," Tsukioka says. "Do you play anything?"

*~*~*

Kame was serious about getting out of the music talk, because he leaves them alone straight away. After they've finished half a drink, Tsukioka waves at some people coming off the dance floor, and suddenly Jin finds himself surrounded by the rest of JUNGLELOW. He doesn't know whether to be excited or intimidated.

Ochiai is their main guitarist and he's written their current hit song. The keyboarder goes by Saku-chan and works as a doctor. Tsukioka is really a biologist who just finished an impressive degree.

Jin feels like such an idiot when he admits under questioning that he sings at an Open Mic thing and tries to write his own songs, sometimes, when he's got time.

"That's how Saku-chan and I met, too," Ochiai says. "Years ago."

"And all I could play was Beethoven Sonatas and Rachmaninov." She toasts Jin with her gin and tonic and winks with one heavily mascara'd eye. She's got impossibly long legs under a white tube dress, and the way the ice cubes clink in her glass makes her short glossy nails look even sparklier.

They all have some sort of history with each other, and apparently enjoy recounting some of their school-university-underground-parking-garage meetings to Jin amidst lots of giggling and more drinks. Jin watches and listens, likes that they were a band before Tanaka even signed them, while the bassist and Saku-chan argue about who's responsible for the emo on their demo tape and kind of forget he's there.

"How do you know Tanaka-san?" Ochiai asks him.

Okay, not really a hard one. It's as expected as the waiter story, and also true. "I know a friend of his," Jin says. "I'm here with Kamenashi Kazuya." He nods vaguely in a vague Kame direction and hopes nothing shows on his face.

"Ah," Ochiai says with an unexpected frown. "He's… on TV, right?"

Jin laughs. "Sometimes," he grins, magnanimously not mentioning cooking contests. "He does films." He will _so_ tell Kame about that.

"Oh my god, you moron!" the bassist interrupts and reaches past Saku-chan to punch the guy. "He's the one Misa is crazy about. Remember she was bugging Tanaka-san for the autograph?"

"My mom's a fan, too," Saku-chan says. "She got tickets to the last movie premiere but they whisked the stars away really quickly."

"Once we get our pictures where he gets his pictures, we've got it made," the bassist – Kurata – says.

"Okay," Ochiai says good-humouredly, "consider me educated." But he's not very serious, and he'd much rather know what Jin thinks of their hit single. The other conversations going on turn suspiciously quiet while Jin says what he thinks, and then actually asks about the note he expected earlier and which didn't happen. Ochiai laughs. "Yeah, but Kinji-kun doesn't like to go that high," he says, and then he explains how he actually had the note in the keyboard arpeggios where it was more subtle, and it's fascinating, and Jin doesn't even feel like an idiot anymore.

At some point another girl arrives, wearing a red clingy top, her hair dyed a warm shade of brown. She squeezes in between Saku-chan and the bassist and smiles at Jin. "Hi, I'm Michi."

He didn't think he saw her earlier but… "Are you in the band, too?" he asks cautiously.

"No," she says. "Are you?" When he blinks, she breaks into a grin. "You never know, there's so many of them!"

Saku-chan pinches her in the side. Michi squirms on the spot, slapping her hand away and giggling. "Sorry," she then says to Jin. "Actually I work for Softbank."

"And you're here…"

"I'm with her," she adds, dipping her head. There's a final pinch that doesn't look all that pinchy.

Oh. Right, that's… he blinks again in case he's misreading the way Saku-chan's hand has come to rest quite comfortably on their pressed-together thighs, in case with her isn't really _with_ her and… the girl can totally see him thinking. Crap.

"Do you travel with the band when they tour?" is the first thing that comes into his head that isn't utterly dumb or irrelevant. "I mean. And with her?"

Michi gives him a final look with her smile on hold, before she shakes her head. "Nah, I wish. Can't get that many paid vacation days."

"We can't afford groupies yet," the bassist points out from the sidelines. "But it's on the business plan."

"Got someone in mind?" Michi teases her.

"Hmmm," she goes. "Justin Timberlake. He'd make a pretty cheerleader."

"I want that girl from the Superman series," Tsukioka says. "She's got all the moves already."

"Don't let your wife hear that," comes an amused woman's voice from behind Jin. "Or you won't even last out the promo tour."

Tsukioka looks slightly harassed as the others try to make room for one more on the opposite couch. "She's not that bad. She's just a little stressed."

Jin stills a little when he sees the woman— of course, the lead singer, who's laughing now and saying she'd sure be stressed too, her eyes still bright like when she took him in on the dance floor…

"Hey there," she says to him, and he nods politely.

"Hi."

"I saw you dancing earlier."

"Yeah, I was…" She's holding his eyes, almost insisting that he not look away. Jin picks up his nearly empty glass from the table, fakes a sip. He shrugs slowly. "Just a little."

"You looked really good out there. But then you were suddenly gone!"

"Thanks. Um. Did you dance?" It's helpless, but he doesn't want to be rude in this round. In theory he even knows how to do this, talk about shallow stuff that means nothing.

"Just a little," she smiles. "So are you enjoying the party?"

"Are you giving the poor man the inquisition, Misa?" Ochiai says across the group.

"I'm just being friendly!"

"He's not even your type," Tsukioka says indulgently, like this is somehow familiar.

She shrugs easily. "I make exceptions." Then her smile is back, full beam, just for Jin. "And he's pretty."

Jin doesn't respond, grateful for the moment to be talked about, not to. Maybe one day he'll grow a beard and wear a hat all the time.

"Don't let her harass you," Kurata says. Weirdly, though she sits close enough to touch Jin, that doesn't bother him at all. "She gets excitable when she's on the rebound."

"Rebound, what rebound?" Misa protests, leaning towards Jin. " _I_ dumped _him_. Just so you know."

"Okay," Jin says stupidly.

"So, do you have a girlfriend?"

"I…" He can't say no, not when she means… and he can't be distant either. "I'm taken."

He doesn't look at anything beyond their immediate group. Looking anywhere would be bad.

 _I'm with him._

Misa sighs deeply. "Shame." She shakes her head and toasts him with her beer, and Jin notices for the first time that her lipstick is the same red as her hair. "All the best ones, right?" She takes a sip and Jin feels he should do the same. "So," she says, "has anyone tried to sell you the single yet?" But she's smiling.

This is a cue for thirty seconds of group advertising. "But honestly," Tsukioka adds, "we can pretend you'll buy it and we don't have to bore ourselves."

Jin promises, which makes all the women laugh.

Other people are floating in and out of the group, of the discussion which gets more fragmented, until it's just Jin, Ochiai, Misa and Kurata, talking about musical influences on the band as a whole and its members.

"I always liked hard rock," Ochiai says, "but with a melody, you know?"

Jin knows. "Or when those heavy metal bands do ballads. Best thing in the world."

Kurata gives him an indulgent look. "Another one for the girly team. You should talk to Saku-chan about that, she keeps going on about the 'hidden Mozart' and shit like that." She grins. "Me, give me the hidden Eminem."

"Hidden, huh?" Misa smiles. "I just don't see the point in _talking_ a song," she explains to Jin. "Plus it makes my throat hurt. But Yuri does a thing in one of our new songs where she works the talking as a kind of rhythm backdrop to me and Kinji-kun. It's actually not as bad as I thought it would be."

"Hey!" Kurata's heavy boot nudges Misa's strappy sandal. "Of course it's not bad. I'm good."

"Is it out yet?" Jin asks diplomatically.

"No, it's for the next single. That's kind of on hold for a couple of weeks while we… there's stuff we need to sort out first." It doesn't look like it's something they want to talk about.

"So how many records did you have to sell to get into the charts?" he asks instead.

Ochiai takes a deep breath. "Nineteen-thousand…"

"…three hundred and six," everybody finishes in chorus.

"In the first week, that was," Ochiai explains. "There'll be more now, of course, and heaven knows how many internet downloads that don't even count."

"I used to do that," Kurata says. "Coming back to bite me on the ass now."

Jin swears he doesn't do internet downloads, saying he doesn't even have a computer. They look at him like he's crawled out of a Heian novel, so he adds quickly, "I can use one at work, though." Talking to some band guys about the Johnny's communal computer. Right.

But when they ask what he does, he says he's a waiter, of course, and Kurata says she used to work in a horrible coffee shop and was so happy when she finally got enough gigs to tell her boss to go fuck himself, politely.

"You're in more bands than one?" Jin asks.

"Was," she says, but then Misa's eyes go wide at whoever is standing behind Jin.

It's Kame. "Hey," he says to Jin, then bows to the ladies and Ochiai.

"Hi!" He kind of lost track of time.

"No rush," Kame smiles, reading his face correctly. "Was just wondering what you were up to."

Jin looks around on the sofa that he and Kurata aren't fully taking up. "Want to sit?"

Kame surveys the group as if he's waiting for protest, but then says, "Sure," stepping around to take up the space where Jin moved up.

"Hi, I'm Kamenashi Kazuya," he says. He looks at Misa, who has stopped slouching and has pulled in her elbows, looking very neat. "I think we've met before."

"Yes," she says, and suddenly her face is glowing. "We have. Half a year or so ago? One of these… But not the last one, you weren't at… I mean, we didn't meet there."

Jin knows that helpless babbly state well, he just hadn't thought someone like Misa was capable of it. He makes sure not to look like he's laughing at her.

"Thank you for your autograph," Misa is saying. "It must be annoying, all those people asking…"

"It's never annoying," Kame declares with a smile. "I'm sure you've found that out for yourself by now. Congratulations, by the way." His compliment includes the whole round as it's left, Kurata and Ochiai, and Saku-chan and Michi who were discussing something between themselves but acknowledge Kame politely.

They're holding hands now.

Jin doesn't know if he can feel Kame going a little still, or if it's just in his own head. When he looks, Kame is not sitting neat like Misa, is sitting just like before, and like nothing is wrong at all. Maybe nothing is.

He's said something or other to make Misa and Kurata laugh. Jin gets with it just in time to hear Ochiai offering to bring the next round of drinks.

They drink those slowly. Misa is visibly impressed by Kame's responsible diet coke but doesn't gush or make guesses about work demands. Kame is probably glad for that. Jin grins into his beer, and participates randomly in a conversation that includes a long exchange about Coke versus Pepsi, the name of the band, and how they all played their music when they were little. Kame and Misa still had discmen, while Kurata skipped straight to mp3 players.

A good while later, when they've moved from the annual spate of sentimental sakura songs in the charts to talk about global warming, somebody says they should investigate Tanaka's garden. A small group of people have already ventured outside and are standing around under trees lit eerily from below.

"Make sure nobody pukes in the pool," Kurata whispers a little too loudly. "I heard he's kind of particular about that."

Kame snorts, getting up, and for a moment— no, he wouldn't pull Jin up. Of course not. "Are you keen on a wintry garden with puke-free pool?" he asks.

Jin shivers in anticipation. "Not really."

Ochiai excuses himself and the others are also getting up. Michi leans against Saku-chan's side, not quite an embrace but not nothing, either, not lies. Jin looks away quickly. The colours don't help, the bright red to the white.

And this time he catches Kame still looking, and a hint of something rough like he knows, too, that with her means _with_ her.

"I wanted to talk to Tanaka again," Kame says. "Before he has to play pool master." Jin nods and says he'll come along, and nobody makes anything of it.

"It was nice meeting you again," Misa says, and Kame assures her the pleasure was mutual. Then the rest of JUNGLELOW plus one underfunded groupie make their giggly way to the balcony.

They don't get much of a chance to talk to Tanaka; seems like everybody wants to show him, tell him, ask him something or offer to get him more drink. Kame lets him know that they're not likely to stay much longer, and they say their thanks and goodbyes in advance. But Tanaka's barely gone out to supervise the February garden freaks when the marketing manager finds Kame again and involves him in some long talk about his endorsement deals, and they are joined by two guys Kame knows from the last party, and suddenly it's another hour later.

When Jin looks up from a sneaky glance at his watch, he catches Kame giving him a wry smile. The smile is followed by a tiny head tilt, and a twitch of those eyebrows. Like they're secret agents or something. Jin grins and rubs his nose meaningfully, and after a brief puzzled moment, Kame grins back and turns to their company.

"I'm afraid it's time for us to leave. I'm driving back and it wouldn't be safe to do that when I'm tired."

*~*~*

They don't have to walk far to get to the car; a perk of being ridiculously early. But Jin still feels a little bounce in his step from Kame's coded messages, which now consist of sideways glances in the secret Kame code of politely wanting to do Jin really badly.

"How far is it?" Jin asks when they're inside the car but still in Tanaka's driveway, Kame's jacket on the back seat and the heating turned up for Jin. Seatbelts, navigation, and best behaviour.

"Half an hour, not as far as from your place," Kame says. At least he doesn't seem truly tired. Jin eyes the radio, but realizes for now he wants quiet.

They're out on the main road when there's more code. Jin grins knowingly. "I had a really great time," he says before Kame can ask. "Thanks for taking me. That was a cool idea."

"I'm glad. I had more fun than usual too." And Kame reaches over and takes Jin's hand, linking their fingers. Just like that, like it's normal. They only had to wait for the dark.

The lights are blinking by outside, hardly anyone around. It's quiet in Kame's nice car. Peaceful.

"He always throws a big bash in the summer. In August. I think you'd like that too," Kame muses. "His garden's actually nice when it's not February."

August. Jin turns his head to look, see if Kame knows what he's saying. Plans… that's half a year. Jin makes plans about careers and money. Not about Kame. Especially not about Kame.

Kame is focused on an intersection and then gives him a quick, relaxed look.

Yeah. He knows what he's saying.

Why shouldn't he. He likes Jin. They have great sex. Why shouldn't Kame expect everything to be just like this in August, too.

Jin should feel pleased. Reassured of his place in the ranking, even.

"Yes," he says. "I'd like that." Because he's at least that smart, and then he says, "It was fun talking to all these people, this was really great," maybe because he wants to remind himself.

Kame smiles. He needs his hand back for getting onto the expressway, and they both agree the party had a great atmosphere and a nice mix of music. "Though… not so good for dancing, after all?" Kame says. "I saw you never went back to that."

Oh, that… It's just a faint echo of that shiver, of feeling naked. He's with Kame in Kame's car. "No, that was…" Shit, way to sound happy.

"That was what?"

Jin shrugs. "There was somebody. It wasn't anything, just…"

He can feel the car slow down, noticeably, as Kame focuses on him. It's kind of funny. "Did anyone say something to you? Was anyone unpleasant to you? Who was it?" Kame's eyes are sharp and alert even in the gloom, like it would really be a bad idea to be mean to Jin at a party. Jin holds his hands up and feels like an idiot for bringing it up.

"It was nothing, honestly."

"Nothing how?"

"There was just that girl from the band, the lead singer, the one who's your fan. And she wasn't…" In the face of Kame's leashed anger and his impaired driving, it's the first time he really thinks it through. Because she was… she was nice. He liked her in the end. "She was just trying to flirt with me," he says. "I didn't really expect that. She was totally fine about it, it was… normal."

Kame digests that for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, very." He sighs, mostly at himself. "I just had a weird moment."

Kame needs a few moments more to think it over, before he seems to fully believe him and they can resume a decent travelling speed.

Jin's had other weird moments, with Kame. Things he didn't expect. Soccer, and Kame's hands in his hair. Kame warm and strong, solid like stone for him.

Not a bad reminder either. Not a bad thing to have in your life, till August, till whenever.

"The band's an interesting bunch," Kame says, just as Jin tugs on his arm. "What? Oh." Jin wants that hand back.

He gets it. "Yes," he says, resting their linked fingers on his leg. "It's almost like they've surprised themselves, and now what?"

"Nobody expected that half a year ago," Kame says. "They were hyped about Tanaka wanting to let them use a studio then. I like that they've stayed the same, just friends who happen to make music together."

Jin agrees. They're fun to talk to because they all seem to know and like each other, know each other's friends and… well, not just friends.

When he turns his head, he can tell Kame's thinking it too.

"It must be nice," he says, in different voice, like a different nice. Something far away. "Maybe it's easier… maybe it helps to be in a band."

Maybe. Jin thinks of Michi's smooth introduction, and suddenly he thinks farther, of cloudy humid afternoons and forbidden beers, _Jin, with the hanging out and all, I thought you should know, I like guys_ , and Naoki had looked him up and down like he was waiting for the freak-out, smirking while the ground shifted under Jin and he knew there would never, _ever_ be a freak-out.

He breathes out slowly. No idea what Naoki's doing here.

"I hope it works out for them," he says just as quietly. "Even when they get really famous."

Kame nods over the steering wheel, and Jin squeezes down on his hand. At last there's a smile.

For a moment Jin closes his eyes and it's just the dark, and the soft seat at his back and the low purr of the car, and Kame's hand in his. When he looks again, the road vanishes smoothly under them and the city skyline is shadow and light on their left.

"I like driving with you," he says, randomly. It's not the first time he's thought it. It's private and peaceful, and Kame drives well.

Kame gives him an amused sideways glance. "Is it the scintillating conversation, or do you just like my car?"

Jin wriggles around a little under the seat belt until he can see Kame more comfortably. "It's a lot of things." He takes Kame's hand in both of his and leans the side of his head against the backrest. "Also I can look at you all I want in here. That's a nice shirt."

"So you've said," Kame says. He's pointedly not looking at Jin in return. That's cute.

Jin starts tracing Kame's fingers; there's a little twitch, and then goosebumps running up Kame's arm. Good.

"Is this payback for the basement?"

"Maybe." Jin smiles, and traces the prickly skin with his fingertips. "But I won't make you wait another four hours for follow-up."

Kame slides him a flushed look, and then he's staring straight ahead, where the street lights are starting to flick past them rather faster.

~

Chapter 43 to follow 29.12.2011


	43. Chapter 43

### Wednesday 25 February

They're in the concrete lot of a closed-down laundry in Tomo's neighborhood, using a group of thin trees in front of the building for a goal. Jin has tied a clothesline at the approximate height. He's wearing his most resilient jeans and some old cycling gloves Tomo gave him. Yoshi is slight and more timid than aggressive, and if Jin gets bruised anyway, he can just lie about it.

Yoshi is sweaty by now, his hair sticking to his forehead and his glasses slippery. He comes back panting when Jin sends the ball far down the lot, and he's almost fast, frowning in concentration as he passes back to Jin. It's amazing how much more fun he's having after just an hour.

Tomo suggested the parking lot before going on his final errand, waved them on their way and said he'd have dinner ready at seven.

"You're getting really good," Jin says when he stops the ball after a few more passes. Yoshi pushes his glasses up and squirms.

"I just don't want to look like a total tool again," he says, in that grumpy voice teenage boys use when you praise them.

"I'm pretty sure you won't," Jin says, rolling the ball over to him gently. "You just needed somebody to show you the basics properly." Yoshi's sports classes sound like the kind where they expect you to be good at four different games without teaching you how. At the start Yoshi was breathing all wrong and getting stitches, and then of course he couldn't handle the ball. Never got a chance to get a feel for it.

Yoshi kicks it back; it veers a little off course but not too badly. "Can we practice proper scoring a bit?" he asks hopefully.

Jin checks his watch first; he's not going to make them late for dinner today, no way. But… yes, okay, they've got a few minutes to give Yoshi a chance to score against an actual goalie.

Jin doesn't go too easy on him, but he can't throw himself on the ground either, so that evens it out, and Yoshi is beaming after he gets in two in a row. Behind Jin the ball rattles the metal mesh covering the shop windows. Jin checks the time again when he jogs to get it.

"Let's go back, okay?" he says when he returns. "We don't want to be late for dinner."

Yoshi doesn't look eager to leave but he doesn't complain, just picks up the ball and wedges it proudly under his skinny arm. It's an official league ball with the logo and everything, and Jin called Tomo from the shop because he was suddenly nervous and uncertain if Tomo might take it the wrong way, after the Kame thing… but he didn't and everything's fine, and Yoshi's got a cool new ball and Jin got an hour of really great fun.

Tomo's van is back in front of the house when they get there, which Yoshi notes with a short little nod to himself. Jin checks his watch again when they're in the elevator. Five minutes to seven. Yoshi is making plans for more practice, maybe with the kids from upstairs, if they'll talk to him.

"Yo," Tomo calls out to them once they've maneuvered around the customary pile of stuff in the hallway, topped today by Tomo's red-and-white delivery jacket. "You guys are early. I haven't started, just got in ten minutes ago, and then the phone rang…" He leans out the kitchen door in the familiar Minnie Mouse apron, a hair band holding back his fringe. Jin holds uncomfortably still in his jeans and baggy sweater and borrowed gloves while Tomo checks out their sweaty state and Yoshi's beaming open face.

"But I'm _hungry_ ," Yoshi says without much credibility. "I was running for almost an hour!"

Tomo gives Jin a wise look and then tilts his head towards Yoshi. "We'll try to be fast, okay? Go wash up and find a good spot for your present."

Yoshi's starvation was clearly not as desperate as his need to point out his sports achievements and he trudges off quite happily, taking the ball with him.

"Shame on me for not having dinner ready for the hardworking kid," Tomo says to Jin as Jin slips into the tiny kitchen. He passes him an open beer.

They're having American hamburgers. There are tomatoes on the counter, next to pickles in jars and an unpeeled onion and the mayonnaise. The meat is defrosted but untouched next to the cooker.

"Anything urgent?" Jin asks. "I mean, the phone. What you said." He has a quick sip of the beer.

"Oh? No, just delivery planning, arrangements for four different people. Big to-do. How was it?"

Jin's uncertain again, nervous about things he shouldn't be nervous about, not after an hour of soccer and with Tomo setting out tomatoes for them. He belatedly remembers to peel off the gloves. "He's improving," he says. "He's not really as bad at sports as he thinks. And he had fun." He's not sure if he sounds like an idiot now; he doesn't really feel qualified to give out report cards.

"Sounds great," Tomo says. "I would have been completely useless, poor guy. Thank you. And for watching him too."

"No, not at all, it was great," Jin says quickly; too quickly. He sighs, calms himself down. "Thanks," he says, and doesn't explain further.

Tomo seems to be very absorbed in checking out the use-by dates on the pickles. "Nothing to thank me for," he says. "Wait till you've tasted the food anyway."

When Yoshi comes out of the bathroom, it turns out there's a thing on TV he'd like to watch, and when he asks shyly if Jin is very hungry yet and how soon they will have everything ready, Jin is glad to say he can enjoy the anticipation for a while longer and will be happy to help Tomo with the rest of the chopping.

They do that peaceably. Tomo insists on dealing with the onions and they make lame jokes about crying over their sports shortcomings, with Tomo dejected over soccer and Jin almost saying baseball, before he decides he's failed the Japanese nation with his lack of martial arts. The beer is wonderfully cold. In the background, cheerful TV sounds are tinkling along. Now and then Jin hears clapping.

"What are you watching?" he asks when they start bringing through the little bowls and plates and napkins.

"Um, it's a contest," Yoshi says from his spot on the ancient sofa. "A celebrity vote thing."

"Who'd you vote for?" On the screen there are giggly-looking people sitting behind a round table. Jin doesn't usually watch this kind of stuff, but ever since Kame and cooking shows and foam block tower contests, it feels a little less new to him.

"Um, her." There is a tiny woman with creamy blond hair; Jin's never seen her before, though her voice seems a little familiar.

"Was it 'girl I'd most like to kiss'?" Tomo asks. He's carrying the buns, looking very amused by Yoshi's focus.

Yoshi shoots him a dirty look. "Go on a date with," he corrects his brother, and promptly blushes.

Kame stopped by again yesterday, before Yamatani. Claimed it was a late lunch break, not that he ate anything, the skinny liar.

It's a little curious and also kind of awesome, the way Kame has started dropping in like Jin is some friend he visits on his way home from work, just for talking. It's cool, as long as you ignore the sex club and the wife part, and Jin likes the little skip of hope it gives him for non-Kame days, even if he knows Kame won't be able to come by all the time.

"Is she an actress?" he asks with another glance at the bouncy woman.

"A voice actress," Yoshi says. "She's done lots of anime and some dubs for American films, you know?" No glowering for Jin, just slightly embarrassed information. Taro-chan would have been just like that.

"And she won the vote?"

"Yep." He looks very proud.

Jin looks at Tomo to see if there are things he ought to help with, but Tomo waves him off. He's brought their beers through and gives Jin's back to him before he flops down next to Yoshi. "You're in no rush, right?" he asks, lifting his chin towards Yoshi's program.

No, no rush. The lunchtime date, and then he didn't want to go to the club, not even on the chance that Kame might drop by for happy cow cappuccino, because he had plans with Tomo and his brother and that was important.

He sits down on the arm of the couch, at the other end from Yoshi, and has more beer.

Yoshi is still riveted. Apparently the dating trophy is a glittery heart. There's a little retrospective which includes excerpts from anime and western movies which Jin doesn't recognize but then there's a commercial for mayonnaise that explains why he knows the voice, and next a clip of a horde of school children milling around her, and another actress, and Sakurai Sho and Kame, with his lighter hair and a smile like you have to trust him.

 _Be strong for your friends._ She said that, Yoshi's girl. Kame's line was different. Something about not looking away, and that wasn't here, and he was only in the background, only for a moment.

Tomo is staring at the screen, very silent, very neutral.

But long enough.

"She was in this campaign," Yoshi says, mumbling a little. "Like, about bullies. That teachers should do something."

There's silence, just the TV, that woman's pleasant voice. "I've heard of it," Jin says when it would be weird not to.

There's another brief clip of the campaign. Some event or other, more kids, more slogans, and matching t-shirts. Kame doesn't get mentioned.

Tomo finishes his beer as the show wraps up, a final three silent minutes. Yoshi's eyes are glued to the screen and Jin is trying not to be mad at the television people for bringing Kame into Tomo's living room. Everything had been so normal. He taught Yoshi soccer.

Yoshi sighs contentedly as the credits roll.

"I'll go fry those burgers then," Tomo says at last. He gives Jin a smile and a nod, and neither really sets Jin at ease.

Yoshi bounces off the sofa to examine their cutting and slicing results. "We don't have cheese," he observes.

Tomo sticks his head out of the kitchen again. "Yeah, I kind of forgot. Did you want cheese?"

"Jin likes cheese on pasta," Yoshi says, sounding proud of his observation skills. "Didn't you want to make cheeseburgers?"

Jin doesn't care, couldn't care less about cheese right now. "It's totally fine," he says. "I'm looking forward to the burgers." He throws a look at Tomo, who seems a flat sort of cheerful, like he's acting. Or maybe like Jin is paranoid.

"I can go get cheese," Yoshi says happily, and Jin says, "no" at the same time Tomo goes, "sure," and comes out of the kitchen to pat down the denim jacket he hung over a chair. He hands Yoshi some folded money and tells him where the melty cheese is in the conbini around the corner.

Jin feels vaguely embarrassed and out of place, and the only thing that helps is the bright smile on Yoshi's face as he takes off, promising not to be longer than ten minutes.

Tomo ducks back into the kitchen, leaving Jin wondering if he's meant to follow or… well. What's he going to do, watch TV?

He stays close to the door, though, tries not to be in the way. The oil is sizzling already.

"Sorry about the cheese," Tomo says.

"It was really not necessary," Jin says. "I was totally fine without."

"Just let him, okay? He's happy if he can do something for you." Tomo is smiling. There's a hiss of noise as he lowers the meat into the pan, and a delicious smell rising almost instantly.

"It was really no big deal," Jin mumbles. "I had great fun." When two weeks ago he wouldn't even have blamed Tomo if he'd wanted to keep Yoshi away from him.

"It _is_ a bit of a deal," Tomo says with surprising sharpness. "You know, what you taught him, that's going to be more useful than twenty rich guys going on TV to talk soppy about what's going on in the schools."

Twenty, Tomo says, but of course he's thinking of one. The one with the secret escort, the one Tomo has learned way too much about.

They didn't say a thing about the run-in with Kame on the weekend, neither of them. Jin figured that was a good sign, just like tonight was a good sign. He'd thought Tomo just needed a moment, to get over… putting all that together.

And he wants to say he thought the campaign was pretentious, too, but that's not the point, they both know that.

He wishes he had something in his hands, another beer maybe, and he wishes there was a way to explain it all away. But Kame was right, he can't lie to Tomo. He doesn't want to lie to him. He still hates the TV scheduling. "I'm sorry about Saturday," he says, hiding his hands in his pockets and feeling at once too casual and too awkward.

Tomo just raises his eyebrows. "What about Saturday," he shrugs. "Not your fault."

Jin takes a breath; gets that rush of nervousness like when he's about to say something dumb to a client, which he hates, because… because it's _not_ a client and this is just about the truth. "It wasn't his fault either," he says quietly.

Tomo looks like he's got a different opinion on that, but then he stops staring at Jin, returns to flipping burgers. Shrugs again. "Not my business."

Jin swallows hard. It's been so long since anyone felt it was their business, and here he is, shutting it down because Kame came early and Jin didn't have a good cover story. It sucks.

"Sorry," he says again. "Do you… would it be better if I just left?"

Tomo blinks at him. But Yoshi's still out. Tomo could make something up, some urgent thing Jin had to do. Jin pulls his hands out of his pockets and still doesn't know what to do with them.

"Are you stupid now?" Tomo says. "Why should you leave?" He gestures around, and it looks so funny with the meat turner and the apron and the hair band that Jin doesn't know whether to laugh at himself or get choked up. "And who's going to eat all this food?"

"I know, I just thought…" It made sense, what he thought. But this is better, feels better, and the food smells delicious again… mostly anyway. "Actually, is that burning?"

"What?" Tomo turns quickly.

There's smoke among the steam filling the kitchen, and Tomo hurries to flip the burger it's coming from again, turning the gas lower in a hurry. He prods the slightly darkened edges. "I think it's okay…?"

Jin steps closer. Some black among the brown, but nothing he'd throw out. "Yeah, that should be fine."

"Well spotted," Tomo says gratefully.

Jin smiles to himself. "I'm just hungry."

"Anyway," Tomo says. "I don't hold that guy against you." He's blushing a little but sounding mostly cool, except…

That guy. Of course. Tomo doesn't like Kame anymore now, and he _knows_ …

"Please don't tell anyone," Jin says before he can finish the thought, it's too awful to finish. "I mean… anyone."

Tomo looks bewildered again. "Who would I tell?"

"I don't know, just, nobody can know," Jin says helplessly. "If it got around… even just as a rumour… it would be horrible for him."

Tomo is grabbing the burgers off the stove, warding off more burning incidents. He's frowning at Jin. "Yeah. I got that with the dead secret club. Relax, okay? I won't. I'm not stupid, either."

Jin takes a deep breath. Relax, sure. Tomo's not stupid; Jin's not even sure what he was thinking.

Then the door goes, with Yoshi's bright voice announcing cheese. "It smells burnt in here," he says when he sticks his head into the kitchen. Jin doesn't laugh at Tomo, not quite yet, but when Tomo shoos them all to the table like a hurried housewife, he thinks he can maybe just kick back and enjoy burgers now.

*~*~*

Eating takes a good leisurely while, with pickles and sauces and cheese being passed around and experimented with in various quantities. It's not late for Jin, and probably not late for Tomo either, though Jin's not sure how much he ever sleeps anyway, with all those jobs. But it gets late enough that Yoshi has to go to bed to get up early for school.

"Ha," he says, nearly knocking his water glass over as he empties it. "Gets me out of clean-up." But he's too sleepy to sound properly triumphant.

When he says a squinty good night in his too-short Wing Zero pyjamas, Jin has an almost painful moment of missing his brothers. But he just waves and wishes Yoshi luck with his next sports class.

Tomo reluctantly allows him to help clear the table, and once they have everything arranged in the kitchen, he decides washing up can wait until tomorrow.

"I could help," Jin points out.

Tomo eyes him; eyes the pile of dishes. "You could also have a beer."

Beer it is.

They settle in opposite corners of the lumpy couch, and Tomo thinks nothing of putting his feet up towards Jin. Like with Kame that one night, with the soccer.

He shouldn't think of Kame here. Who knows what Tomo can read on his face.

He drops his gaze to the coffee table, where a slightly grubby-looking remote is sitting on top of a large green book on basic accounting. Just peeking out underneath is a guide on some law thing or other.

"What's that?" he asks.

"What's what?"

"That book. Accountancy?"

"Oh." Tomo smiles reluctantly while he has a sip from his bottle. "It's for that night class. For doing the books at the bar."

"You're taking it?" Tomo gives a long-suffering sigh, but the smile's still there. "Yeah. I'm sure I'll be the dumbest guy around but… yeah. I'm taking it. It sounded really useful."

"But that's great! Congratulations!" Jin raises his bottle in a silly salute, and Tomo swirls his own bottle back at him and looks just as ridiculous. "So you could negotiate something with the parking job?"

"Not really… actually I quit that."

Jin can't quite stop himself from looking around. He remembers rent considerations.

"Well," Tomo says, reading his mind or something. "It was Emi's idea. She's going to pitch in with some money to make up for the parking thing. Just to get me through the class." He says that pretty fast and gives Jin a hesitant look, as if Jin might find it objectionable he's taking money from a girl.

"Your girlfriend is cool," Jin says.

Tomo shrugs awkwardly, but underneath he looks pleased. "So cool I actually…" The way he squirms, he reminds Jin a lot of Yoshi.

"You actually…?"

Tomo holds his breath. "We kind of got engaged." Then he shakes his head like a wet dog.

Oh wow. "Congratulations," Jin says. That is… that is so great for Tomo, so great for them. Figuring out how to get Tomo out of the dead-end job and… getting married. "You should have told me, though. I'd have brought you guys a present."

"We haven't told anyone yet. Not even the kid. We're going to wait at least until after the class. See what happens at the bar."

Yes, that's smart. Jin nods seriously, and they're quiet for a moment, until they look at each other and grin.

"How did you ask her?"

Tomo bites his lip. "I think my exact words were, 'Okay, cool. So let's.'"

Jin snorts into his beer. "Did she hurt you badly?"

"Hey, man, it was the most romantic proposal ever. Sitting around my kitchen table talking about accounting classes."

"I think that's a pretty good way to get engaged." Jin's not even kidding.

"I will get her a ring," Tomo says. "Later, when I can afford a decent one."

They sit and drink their beers, and now and then Tomo looks sheepish and Jin grins at him again. Tomo with his three shitty jobs and a kid brother and Emi the receptionist, and they're working out their future together, because they love each other.

He feels happy for him. Happy and only a little jealous, in a faint wistful way that even his stupid face won't show.

Tomo deserves it.

"Hey, also. I'm sorry about before," Tomo says into the quiet. "I didn't mean to get short with you about that guy."

Kame again; maybe Tomo really can see into Jin's head. Damn. He'd hoped they were finished there, he could just take it as settled.

But he nods slowly, taking in Tomo's apologetic face. "It's okay," he says. "And, really. I know how it looks. But he's nice. I would never have asked him to the bar otherwise." At Tomo's sudden frown he adds hastily, "I promise I won't bring him there again, don't worry."

"Yeah, okay," Tomo says, and Jin feels stupidly disappointed even though he knows Kame would never go back there anyway, not now. "Just, I _know_ he can be nice. He was nice that time. I just don't like the guys who do that."

Jin looks away, looks at the accountancy brochure again.

"I mean, you're in a shitty job you hate, and he's taking advantage. I don't have to like someone like that, right?"

Tomo has thought about this. "No," Jin says, because that's the truth too. "I don't like most of them either."

Tomo nods quickly. "Yeah, I know. I'm not… I don't think it's _your_ fault. I didn't mean to offend you."

"I wasn't offended." Somehow that should be funny too; the whore offended because Tomo criticized a client.

"And I'm glad," Tomo continues, "if some of them aren't as bad as the rest, that's a good thing." He looks a bit uncomfortable, thinking his way through whore logistics, just so he can explain to Jin what he means, when Jin already knows. "Just, still doesn't make it _nice_. It's still taking advantage."

Tomo cares what happens to him. About who does things with him. He's wrong about Kame but not wrong in general, and it's a weird thought, too, that someone looks at famous charming Kame and thinks his escort is the one to care about. Tomo doesn't judge him or say he's not fit to be around his little brother, and suddenly Jin wonders what would happen if he told Tomo everything – if he could just _tell_ him what it is about this guy who isn't so bad, and how stupid he gets taking Kame to the bar and why he gets jealous of accounting classes.

But that's another thing he can't do. Tomo already knows more about Kame than Kame would ever want him to. So Jin can't tell him about Kame cooking for him or playing ghost or flirting with hamsters.

And Tomo might think he's crazy anyway.

He'd let him stay, though. Even if Jin confessed that he's a walking talking cliché. Tomo still thinks it's his business.

"What are you singing tomorrow?" Tomo wants to know, like there's no question Jin will show up.

"I don't know yet," Jin says slowly, fingering his beer. "But actually, I was wondering… I wrote some stuff and… would you like to try doing something together?"

### Friday 27 February

Kame rifles through the pages, checking if he's just missed the sports section or if it's not there. He's early. The young men at the bar keep throwing looks in his direction, to see if he's changed his mind or maybe just to check how long it takes him to get through the politics pages. He feels strange, pleased with himself and a little stealthy, like he's in some benign conspiracy.

A traditional purpose, Koyama-sensei called it last week when Kame was waiting for Jin too, telling Kame about clubs in England where like-minded people just dropped in to chat and meet informally or read the papers over a cup of tea, like Yamatani does on his almost-daily visits. Though they probably didn't have escorts there.

Still, Kame is happy to run with the traditional angle. He has an hour until he has to report to make-up for tonight's game show, and so here he is again, reading the paper too, hoping to catch Jin for a cup of coffee. It's almost like they're setting up their own little tradition here.

He turns the page to read something about nuclear weapons in North Korea when he senses movement behind him.

"Sorry, um, do you mind if I borrow that?"

Kame twists his neck; the self-doubt didn't sound like— no, not an escort. A slightly portly man who's fiddling with his tie and suddenly going—

"Oh, wow, I knew you came here. I totally know your movies!"

"Thank you," Kame says for lack of anything smarter. He can't exactly introduce himself now.

"Sorry, really, don't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to check what they said about Toyota."

Kame blinks. Oh, right, the paper. He fishes out the relevant section and somewhat haplessly tries to fold it up. "Of course, it's not a problem."

The guy takes the paper, gives him another startled look and then tries to find whatever it is about Toyota.

Kame thinks of English clubs. Thinks that Jin won't be long, but he can still be nice, be social. Traditional.

He turns slightly. "Do you work in the car industry?" he asks.

"Cars? Oh, no, I never even know how to open the hood. I'm Yokoyama. I work in investment."

So that's how they end up sitting together. Kame finds it weirdly enjoyable, even though he has to admit to Yokoyama that he knows as much about finances as Yokoyama knows about cars. The man is more interested in talking about Kame's movies anyway.

He should be more used to it; it happens that even older people get excited around him. Just rarely this bluntly, with Yokoyama wobbling around between being discrete, a sophisticated fellow-patron who enjoys the social opportunities of the club, and pressing him for details about swords and how long Kame takes in make-up.

"Like, spots? Really?" Yokoyama tries hard not to search too bluntly for blemishes on Kame's skin.

"It used to be more of an issue when I was younger," Kame says. "So anyway, about half an hour, depending on the role."

And then there's Jin. Kame sees him right away and he doesn't even have to stand or wave before Jin's noticed him. Jin's smile is bright before he even starts walking.

He looks on between them curiously. "Good afternoon," he says, stopping close enough that it doesn't really look like hesitation.

Kame smiles up at him. "Hey."

"Oh, you guys know each other?" Yokoyama says, eyeing them both with something like approval. "You know, that makes total sense."

Kame isn't sure if this conversation makes total sense, but Jin's looking happy and pleased to see him, so he just nods. "So are you sitting down or what?" he says, and Jin laughs.

"Have you been waiting long?"

"Not too long," Kame says. "I informed myself of what's going on in the world."

"We were talking about Toyota," Yokoyama claims quite shamelessly.

"Tell me you're not shopping around for a new car," Jin says while Kame waves at the waiter for Jin's usual espresso and the rubber tree's brandy. "I _like_ your car."

Kame looks at him, the hair and the warm smile, remembering how cozy it feels to drive with Jin.

"No. No worries, I like my car, too. And I'm afraid my contribution to the great Toyota stock debate was slightly confused nodding."

"Ah, I know that feeling," Jin says. "Yokoyama-san gives advice to a lot of us here." To the man himself he adds, "I try, okay?"

Yokoyama waves it off with a little blush. "Oh, as long as it's a little hobby, I don't expect you to get too hung up on it. I'm just trying to be useful, please don't stress on my account." Then he blinks. "Oh, gosh, I'm really sorry, I should probably leave you two alone!"

Jin gives Kame a quick look. Kame's not stupid, he remembers the last time he invited some guy and left Jin without the protection of a date… But this is different. He'd be stupid not to notice that too.

"I'm just stopping by for coffee," he says, and Jin's earnest nod makes him feel warm and welcome. "You know, a short break from work." When he puts it like that it feels like their little secret, his favourite secret.

"Breaks are important," Yokoyama confirms. "Only you need to watch out you don't get too delayed, that happens to me sometimes, when I go to the cafeteria and I get sidetracked and my secretary has to come get me. She's very strict."

Jin seems amused by that thought, and then he gives Kame a slightly long look. "So… how've your last three days been?" he asks with a quiet smile. "I keep seeing you on those programs just before seven in the morning and I get sleep-deprived just thinking what time you have to get up for those."

"Five is usually early enough," Kame says.

Jin shakes himself. "That's awful." Yokoyama makes a pained face, too, but like he's familiar with the experience.

Kame laughs. "It's medium awful." He's still got the luxury of seeing Jin for coffee, so he's not complaining. "The real fun starts now." Tonight's game show, a quick trip to Osaka over a contest he lost on _Draw or Die_ , two TV shows the day after and promotions with all major networks throughout the day on Monday, followed by a photo shoot for the main cast. One morning of rest and after that, non-stop appearances until premiere day, when he'll attend the first screenings in three different cities and won't even be able to nap during the movie because he'll be high-strung and nervous about everybody's reactions.

Jin nods sympathetically. He's heard this.

"Is it also exciting, or do you just want it to be over?" Yokoyama asks, sounding concerned.

"Probably a bit of both," Kame admits. It's going to be hectic, and it's going to be lonely. He's booked Jin for the one night in all of this when he doesn't have to be up at five the next day. But that's not until Monday. "It's like a week-long high, but it's also really exhausting. After it's over, I usually just sleep for a couple of days. Speaking of sleep," he says to Jin when he remembers, "I didn't realize you get up before seven in the morning."

"Hm, sometimes," Jin says vaguely into his coffee. "Sometimes I go back to bed, too."

They're not sitting all that close; neither of them is into displays in the lounge, and they're not alone. "I see," Kame says instead, trying to get Jin's attention by the tone of his voice, but Jin shrugs and refuses to look at him.

"I'm looking forward to that movie of yours," Yokoyama says eagerly. "Love samurai movies. Always wanted to be one, you know, when I was a kid."

"I hope to fulfill your expectations," Kame says.

"I've seen the trailers," Yokoyama goes on. "Like the one with the battle in the snow." This snow thing is quickly becoming a classic; Kame wonders if they'll be running clips of that ten years down the road. "That must have been freezing, with the torn shirt in that wind. Even your nipples were all tiny and shrivelled up."

Jin's shoulders are shaking suspiciously, and his mouth looks kind of pinched.

"I was glad we didn't have to do that take more than once," Kame says, looking solely at Yokoyama. "As soon as I was done, the assistants came running with thick down coats and hot tea to unshrivel me."

There's an undignified snort next to him, and Kame is pleased with himself. Jin has flushed, is waving his hand in apology. "Sorry, sorry."

Yokoyama is smiling into his drink. Kame holds Jin's eyes; doesn't even know what he wants to say, except he likes it when he can get Jin to crack up. It's almost like they're a normal couple, hanging out somewhere, dealing with waiters and talking to people.

"Kamenashi-san's going to be a cook next," Jin says eventually, including Yokoyama again, being polite for both of them.

"Oh, another movie?"

"A drama," Kame says. "We'll be starting as soon as my promotion commitments die down, all the casting is done." He gives Yokoyama a little run-down of the plot, and likes the way Jin looks so comfortable hearing things he already knows.

Morioka called him two days ago, on his cell, and Kame was glad to feel excited again when the name flashed up. Morioka's stiff tone when he thanked him for his support in getting the role was sobering, but somehow he managed to keep the conversation going past that point, and to insist quite truthfully that Morioka won the part for himself. All Kame did was give the director some moral support.

"I remember your way of 'moral support' from the fistfight in the movie," Morioka had said, with a smile in his voice. "It can be pretty menacing."

"It wasn't like that at all!" Kame had protested. "For one, I didn't throw anybody in a pond. I swear!"

He thinks Morioka believed him, about more than just the pond. He's still feeling happy when he thinks of that conversation. Yokoyama is in full support of dramas involving food, and Jin warns him to watch out for all those people trying to interfere with his handling of pans. Kame wishes he could take longer breaks.

"I'm afraid I must be going," he says eventually. Both of them make equally understanding faces while Kame finishes his cappuccino. "I have to warm up for the foam sword fight."

Jin is smiling quietly, like he'll miss Kame between now and Monday.

"Sword fight? Can you win anything exciting?" Yokoyama asks.

Kame hasn't really paid much attention. "I think some trip to somewhere. I don't usually have time to take those, anyway."

"Oh, that's sad." Yokoyama seems genuinely sorry for him.

Kame slowly gets to his feet, and just for a moment it's weird, leaving Jin like this, the two of them, and then Yokoyama asks in his nice enthusiastic voice, "Do you want some more beer, Jin?" and waves his empty wine glass around, and for the first time Kame realizes where this will go. These two like each other. And they're here. It's not about investment tips.

It's about the way Jin stays in that seat, the way he reads Kame's face, and sinks back a little. And stays.

Kame's not sure what he's feeling; mostly it's weird, like watching himself think. He wonders what he'll think next.

"Later?" Jin says, in a quiet voice that Kame hears like scraping glass. "I've still got my brandy."

"Oh, right!" Yokoyama says, like he's been caught at something stupid. "Of course. I'll… is it rude if I order myself more?"

"No, of course not." Jin's smiling; it's just that little bit different.

"You don't drink that stuff," Kame says.

Jin gives a little laugh. "Yeah." He has a sip. "I know." His smile is insistent, daring Kame's own to slip off his face. Yokoyama is dealing with the waiter.

Time. It's time. They will have an hour, or three, but Kame needs to be on time for a game show.

He makes sure that there's nothing in his smile Jin would have to worry about. "So, we're still okay for Monday?"

"Definitely," Jin says at once. And he's fine. Jin's not helpless, Jin is fine. He's not getting up either, not walking Kame to the door, not getting out of this. It makes sense and it's fair, and they both shouldn't even be blushing.

"Until Monday, then," Kame nods. "You know what to do." He's not sure quite when he'll get home. But Jin has a key.

"Drink all your Drambuie," Jin says. "And good luck tonight. But don't win the trip. You're away too much anyway."

Kame nods, clears his throat and says, "Yeah. Thanks."

Yokoyama bows, too, and nods in a friendly, awkward way, so excited to have met him, and Kame wishes him luck with the cars.

He leaves without looking back. Doesn't turn when he gets his coat, doesn't think in the elevator or the parking garage, doesn't have to think while there are doors to unlock and seatbelts to fasten and other cars to navigate around on the way out of the place, and then of course there's traffic, Minato traffic at six, and at first that's useful, too.

But soon he's stuck in gridlock at an intersection and—

His first thought is that Shikama is better at sports than he. Hagiwara isn't bad, either, looks athletic. If he doesn't appear, they can carry the game, and they might like having the spotlight on them for a change. He could call his agent who would call TBS and everybody would be very sorry that Kamenashi-san caught that gastrointestinal virus, and say how considerate he is not to want to pass it on to anybody else.

Only it's nonsense, of course.

It's too late already anyway, Jin is having another drink, and maybe he's getting a key just now, to go upstairs with Yokoyama, to get undressed. Kame wonders if Yokoyama knows to turn the heating up. Wonders how Yokoyama likes—

Stops wondering, completely, right now.

This is _crazy_.

Jin's got a job to do. Just like Kame's got a job, one he might even get to in time if he's lucky because there are sirens in the distance, maybe something is about to move. And Kame's got no right to have issues with Jin's job and it's not like it's news to him what the job entails, with Yokoyama and Nishikido and Kato and Yamatani and that Eda guy and… this is no good, no good thinking these things or imagining how Jin undresses for Yokoyama and how Yokoyama touches him and fuck. He needs to stop, he needs to _chill_. What did he expect Jin to do, go home after a brandy and a coffee? The thought is laughable. He didn't, so what _is_ this?

He can't drive like this.

Just as well they're all standing still, then. He laughs, and it sounds a little demented in his ears.

It's Jin's job. He knows how it works. He's always been realistic about it, with Takuya and Tatsuya, and if they already had company or a booking, he simply looked the other way, looked forward to their next meeting. Because there always was one, and there's going to be one with Jin, too, and soon, so why does he feel like he just lost something?

Jin needs a better kind of job.

And something's moving, slowly. A gap on his left and… he starts cutting across before he even indicates, ignores the crescendo of horns, and pulls up halfway on the pavement in front of a conbini. He won't be long.

Two minutes, then he's back out, with a pack of cigarettes. And a lighter because it's not like he still had one after all those years, and the car has a cell phone charger there instead. He gets in and tears the pack open, lights one and coughs a few times before he settles and feels the nicotine hit, and waits for a traffic cop to come and give him a ticket.

Because he can't drive like this. Not with his skin prickling all over, not when he wants to put the pedal down and smash into the nearest car.

He smokes the cigarette down in eight deep draughts, and when he lights the second one his hand is steadier. He can be rational now. He couldn't have stopped it, anyway; he couldn't have stopped anything. So he can at least be glad that Jin is with someone he likes, who'll treat him with respect. Yokoyama won't make Jin feel bad even if he makes Kame's stomach crawl, so that's fine. It's fine.

And if it's a comfort, it means good money for Jin, and that's fine too.

Except it's not fine because he's sitting in his car in a no parking zone smoking his third cigarette, waiting for the traffic cops, acting like he's crazy. Belatedly, he fumbles his sunglasses out of the glove compartment. Won't help him much if he gets arrested, but he… can't drive, he's stuck here, because he _is_ crazy.

He should have realized before. It's not sane to hang out at his escort's local bar, show up early at his home and not even wait in the car, make out with him in a basement like he's got no self-control. Go on spontaneous shopping trips with him. Meet his escort's friends, carry his groceries and rearrange his freezer.

He just never thought; he was too busy enjoying it, all of it. Jin enjoyed it too. He thinks. Who knows what Yamashita thought, that time. He probably knows Jin better than Kame. He gets Jin for free, for real, and suddenly Kame hates him, only a little less than he hates Jin's job.

He doesn't like how this fits together. He doesn't like that he doesn't know what to do about it, except get his ass off this pavement and get himself to work, and give Jin no hassle on Monday, and stay the hell away from the club and the guys who can buy Jin just like he can.

He feels tired now.

He hits the button to roll all four windows down and the sunroof open, puts the ventilation on high. Needs to get some air in this car. Then he sits and indicates tamely for five minutes until somebody lets him into the slow lane again. At least the traffic is moving now.

Make-up always take longer than they have to, anyway. He doesn't have to look perfect. Why pretend.

~

 _Chapter 44 to follow 05/01/2012_


	44. Chapter 44

### Wednesday, 04 March, 01:30 (Ginza)

While they're on the bed, Jin thinks without much interest that Nakamaru is probably the most politically important guy he's ever done it with. US senators don't really count. Then he thinks nothing for a while because Nakamaru is trying to get him off and he needs to focus, lock himself in. When he's ready to look again, Nakamaru's panting harder above him and making a pretty funny sex face, which also helps, lets Jin get his head together before Nakamaru even comes.

Afterwards, Nakamaru organizes a warm wet cloth from the bathroom before Jin can make the offer, and wipes them both down very conscientiously and with a very serious expression. The music is still playing in the background, something cultured and inoffensive. Jin didn't like it but he didn't hate it either, it was mostly easy to tune out.

It's late for a weeknight, but that seems to be normal for them. Maybe Nakamaru didn't manage to make a move any earlier, maybe that's why Jin is here. Now it's late, and they're done, and it was fine. Go figure.

Late is no problem. He can sleep in tomorrow, sleep half the day away if he wants to. His Wednesday banker is out of town and Jin isn't even sad about the money.

There are the usual thank-yous, and Nakamaru returns Jin's bathrobe before wrapping up in his own. Cool.

Nakamaru invites him to sit on the couch, primly apart. Job pretty much over, that says. Jin appreciates that.

Nakamaru is drinking a big glass of water with mineral supplements he brings to the club. Jin's having beer. "It got rather late," Nakamaru observes with a squint at the DVD set. It's past one in the morning. His mouth looks flushed from all that excitement, and his nose is as red as it is big.

"Yes."

"I hope I'm not keeping you from a good night's sleep," Nakamaru adds, slightly worried.

"No, this is pretty normal for me," Jin smiles. "And I know. Sleep is important."

"Very important, especially for young people." Nakamaru nods emphatically. "Just like you said."

"Yes." Jin wonders if Yuu-chan got that lecture too, with all the bounciness that must look like a truly disconcerting drain of energy.

They're a little stuck again. Nothing that would probably happen to Yuuya. But Jin's learned not to make it worse by worrying and tensing up. Nakamaru looks pretty relaxed anyway, by Nakamaru standards.

They dimmed the lights to cozy before they got naked, and the room is a standard, not vast. Jin hides a yawn by drinking from his beer.

"Ah, yes, the end of the school year…" Nakamaru looks deeply into the dying fizz of his health drink and sighs. "I hope we won't see too many tragedies this spring."

Jin needs a moment to find the connection again. Schools. They talked about that back in the lounge, with Tatsuya, who got them away from disapproving parents and suicides to the exciting freedom of university life. Not that Tatsuya, to the best of Jin's knowledge, has ever gone to university. Still, Nakamaru seemed a little intimidated by him.

"Yeah," Jin says vaguely. "That would be good."

"Do you plan to study when you stop working here?"

It's a bit out of the blue; unusual for a client to even mention later, acknowledge that whores are not here for the long-term opportunities. Most of them like their illusions. Even the nice ones.

"I haven't really thought about it," Jin says, gesturing around at the gentle décor and hoping it looks like he totally digs this scene. "For now I'm here!" He tries a smile too.

"But this isn't a job for life," Nakamaru says with unexpected candidness, like he knows at least one reason why Jin is fudging. "It is only sensible to have a plan for later, and a university degree would be a very good investment in your future."

Right, like Jin would pass any sort of entrance exam. He knows what the others would say, he's heard it by now; something about enjoying the time with the clients. But he feels stupid before he even tries.

"I know," he admits. "I'll have to think of something along the way. I don't think university's really my thing."

He wraps himself a little tighter in his bathrobe because he's feeling the chill from sweat and coming down from sex. Nakamaru echoes the motion. Not one for randomly flashing skin, either.

"I do apologize," Nakamaru says, looking stiff again as if Jin just sat down next to him in the lounge and quizzed him on his knowledge of 1960s wines. "If that was an inappropriate question, I certainly meant no offense."

"No, don't worry," Jin says quickly. "It's a good question. I just… don't have plans yet."

Right now he's got plans till August.

Well, he's got plans. More important plans. Plans that mean he won't be sitting half-naked in rooms with ministers for the environment anymore, not knowing what to say. Won't have to sleep with anyone he doesn't want to sleep with no matter how sophisticated or rich they are.

Nakamaru sighs deeply. "I've been coming to the club longer than you've been working here and things still get so… difficult." He makes a pained face.

Yeah, difficult escorts. "I hadn't noticed."

Nakamaru waves him off with a melancholy smile. "Oh, I'm sure you have, I get very bad at finding the right words, and I thought my perspective would change over time because I have had very good experiences here and of course it's always nice to have conversations about important things but I often feel…"

Oh, so… not about the difficult escorts. Difficult other things. Jin's not even trying to guess why Nakamaru is telling him, of all people, about his conversation worries, but if there's one thing he can empathize with, it's this.

"I don't think you're that bad," Jin says. "I mean… we've managed some nice dates by now too." He bites his lip. Yeah, they make a great team with the communication skills… "How long have you been coming here then?"

"Six or seven years, I believe… I was introduced by a senior colleague when it became clear I might be considered for a position in government." It's kind of amazing how much he can blush over this, when earlier he wiped come off Jin's belly.

"That's a pretty long time," Jin concedes.

"I suppose it was for the best," Nakamaru sighs again. "It was all very sound advice from my colleague and he took good care of me." He nods very conclusively and then he blushes some more. "Sorry for getting so reminiscent."

Jin eyes him curiously. He doesn't really wonder much about clients' motivations; his life is smoother that way and it makes it easier to be friendly, easier not to care. "You don't sound so happy about that," he ventures, watching for any sign that he's overstepping lines.

Nakamaru waves his drink in hurried denial. "It wasn't a criticism!"

"No, I got that." It's funny to think Nakamaru feels as self-conscious about their embarrassing first date as Jin. Even with last time being quite civilized, he didn't really expect for them to get together again. He certainly didn't expect Nakamaru making post-coital confessions about his issues at the club.

"I just meant…" Nakamaru frowns fuzzily, though he didn't drink much. "Well, as I'm sure you're aware, with this sort of arranged companionship… though it is very pleasant, very pleasant indeed. You just never know how much of a genuine… if at all. With this sort of job, which I'm sure isn't what people talk about in job orientation with their teachers. I don't like to think… I was very confused when I first came here and it's gotten somewhat better, and I appreciate everyone being so nice and friendly especially when I'm little more than a stranger but it's not really… ideal." Nakamaru stops with a blink, and then he apologizes again.

Jin thinks. Despite the lack of sentences that was pretty easy to follow. Pretty obvious. And pretty weird that it gives him a little pang. Not like he cares about Nakamaru. He's just never heard it from a client like this. Any client. That they even know.

Maybe that's why Nakamaru likes the bouncy ones so much.

He doesn't even know why Nakamaru is talking to him like this. Maybe it's their mutual pass to the club of awkward, maybe it's the late hour, maybe Nakamaru really misses Yuuya tackling him and rolling them around on the floor.

But he has to say something, and he doesn't want to say something stupid or bland, not to this.

"Have you ever…" He gives Nakamaru a cautious look, and waits, but Nakamaru just shows him a perfectly attentive expression. "Have you ever thought about not coming to the club? Maybe… trying to find a boyfriend instead?"

Still no sign of offense. Nakamaru tilts his head this way and that as if to grasp a very difficult concept. On the carpet his toes are curling in under his bony legs. "It just seemed… impossible."

"But would it really be so bad? I mean… you're not out there making speeches about family and you don't get the paparazzi following you or whatever…" He's really not sounding like an escort anymore, he should stop. It's none of his business. But he feels weirdly sorry for Nakamaru, and the idea that you'd come here and do this when you don't want to and don't even _need_ to…

"I suppose I… there is always discretion. Not to mention retirement. But do you really think someone would want to… with relationships being difficult and I'm not exactly at an age where it's easy, considering, and… don't you think?"

That really wasn't the answer Jin expected. But then this whole conversation wasn't. He shrugs slowly. "You can't be the only guy who's not so happy just being with escorts."

Nakamaru stares at Jin almost uncomfortably long. "I suppose you may have a point," he says with another frown.

Jin leans into the corner of the couch and rests his beer on his knees. Everything's calm and quiet, despite the music Jin didn't want, despite the stuff he's said. "Maybe you'd be happier," he adds.

Nakamaru makes a strange apologetic face and ponders that concept too.

 

### 05:45 (Uguisudani)

Kame sits beside Abe-san for the first leg of today's road trip, to the studio. It's been a couple of months since he last needed a driver and he wants to know how Abe-san's New Year trip to the hot springs went and whether it really helped his bad back. He could talk through the intercom from the back of the minibus with its comfortable seats and hot drinks dispenser, but that seems stupid when it's just the two of them. He sips at his coffee, for which Abe stopped again just two blocks from his house because it's stronger than the stuff from the minibus machine. It's not even six and he's been up since five.

His whole week's been like this, and it turned out he couldn't make the Monday evening date. It was the first time he wasn't wholeheartedly sorry to have to cancel on Jin.

"Busy day," Abe says, signalling conscientiously as he turns from one empty street into another one.

He should know, since he's going to be ferrying Kame and the team around for all of it.

"At least it's just a VTR at the end, not another game show," Kame says.

Abe chuckles. "Got yourself thoroughly killed in that last one, didn't you."

"I was a disgrace to samurai past present and future," Kame says. He didn't care then, his head still full of Jin, Jin and Yokoyama, and things that happened which he couldn't change. He cares a little more now, when he's calmer and able to hold more than the one pulsing, maddening thought in his brain. Hamaguchi called earlier with a friendly request that he maybe not humiliate himself and his entire agency quite so efficiently today. "I'm lucky the penalty wasn't seppuku."

"Not comfortable holding a sword, huh?"

"I was afraid I might kill somebody," Kame says, making the truth sound like a joke. It works, because Abe laughs.

Takeda-san, the woman managing their promotion of the movie, will meet them at the first studio, the one producing the movie. He'll be doing the breakfast show there with Hayashi, his love interest, and Endo, the antagonist. Then they'll move on with a make-up artist and some more cast members to various other shows on other channels, in other studios, to appear in various configurations. Only Kame is in everything.

But they should be done by eight. He's asked Jin to come to his apartment for nine, because they gave him tomorrow morning to catch up on breathing. And he needs to catch up on other things more, things like Jin's skin and his smile and… all that. Just them.

It’s good that he's had a few more days to get his head in order. Now he can't wait.

 

### 12:12 (Chidori)

When Jin wakes up around noon, the sun is out bright and warm, another layer of coziness on top of his duvet. Jin buries his face in the pillow for another little snooze and pulls his feet up further into the warmth.

He enjoys letting his mind drift, feeling lazy, thinking of music, thinking of being free all day. No other clients, nothing he doesn't want to do. Maybe he can work on that song for Tomo, they thought about trying it tomorrow. Eat a late breakfast, and leave lunch so he's got room for whatever Kame will come up with. He falls asleep again to thoughts of toast.

The next time he wakes up he's a little sweaty, and he had a strange dream about trying to get to Nakamaru's wedding in a hurry and telling him how disappointed he is, after their talk, that Nakamaru is marrying an Edo princess, and somehow Tomo kept promising shortcuts that never worked out.

He peels himself out of his sheets and shakes off the stress over making coffee. It's not a stress day. It's a rest-with-Kame day, which is always good, and especially awesome when he knows in advance, because then he doesn't sleep with any other guys. Later he'll have to stop by the club for some admin, but that doesn't count.

While the coffee is seeping, he lets his brain wake up and watches some people stroll by down on the street, warm coats and sunshine looking like a wonderful combination.

He turns on the TV to check if there's coverage of the soccer season starting next weekend. What he finds is all Division 1, all the time, so that's no good. He leaves it on international news while he makes some toast and boils an egg.

While eating, he catches Kame on NTV, not intimidating Japan's youths for a change but trying to de-bone a fish with Western-style cutlery while balancing a book on his head. Sometimes he wonders if Kame really knew what he signed up for with that job. He laughs to himself and watches Kame finish the task with the expected precision and perseverance. He looks good, cute with all that concentration. Jin really likes the dark hair. He wonders what they'll have for dinner.

He's missed Kame. It shouldn't be possible to miss a guy he's seen just on Friday this much, but then that went from happy cows and Yokoyama chatter to just awkward and unhappy, and Jin… well, he's missed Kame. That's all.

Later he takes some of his suits to the dry-cleaner, wondering as usual what they make of all the fussy expensive clothes he brings when he always shows up in worn jeans and sweatshirts. This time he's offered tea and a small piece of mochi by the middle-aged woman minding the shop, and then he has a weird moment of disconnect making small talk about jobs and the state of the neighbourhood with someone who is not a client. She asks him about singing at the bar, and after his initial surprise it's awesome to think that that's what some people know him for.

At home he packs his usual bag for Kame. Toiletries, t-shirt and boxers, and a second nice shirt for the next morning. He diligently does his hair and hopes the good weather will hold, and then he's off to the club to get checked for diseases and sleep with nobody else at all.

 

### 13:30

"Where's Kasai-kun?"

Takeda taps red fingernails impatiently on the clipboard pinning down their next location and details for what to do when they get there.

It's half past one, and they got the food game over with. It was Kame's sixth appearance today, on a team with Hayashi and the grizzled retainer, against a team comprising his rival Endo, Kasai the page and the tall retainer.

"If we don't leave in five minutes, we'll be late for the history commentary," Takeda frets.

That's one for just Kame, but Endo and Hayashi are with him in the one after, at the same place, and they need Kasai and the retainers there because that's from where they'll be leaving for Odawara castle afterwards. It's like a military operation.

"If he doesn't come, he'll have time to make it to the studio while we're on air," Hayashi observes practically, and that helps, calms Takeda down.

Kame's not really for leaving a seventeen-year-old behind to find his own way to a studio he may not even know, but the boy knows the time pressure they're under just like anybody else.

"I'll just… I need a toilet break, sorry," he says. "I promise I'll be back in five minutes, we have that, don't we?"

Takeda isn't such a hardass, she just likes to do her job efficiently. Kame respects that, just like she respects it in him.

"Four minutes now," she says, but there's a little smile.

Kame makes a V-sign and dashes off.

He doesn't really expect to find Kasai in the bathroom; he went there with the rest of them straight after the show ten minutes ago. But he doesn't know where else to start looking and when he opens the door, the boy emerges and gives a panicked little jump.

"Oh," Kame says intelligently. His next thought is that Jin had better not learn that he scared the boy again.

"Sorry," Kasai flails, "did you…" He steps aside as though to let Kame in before leaving himself.

"No," Kame says. "Just, we're about to leave."

"I'm really sorry," Kasai mumbles.

"It's okay," Kame says with a quick smile. "Let's get going." He looks at the boy's face, flushed and slightly damp. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I…" Kasai's blushing, and like a flash Kame wonders… wonders _who_ , wants to say it's _really_ okay, even that, but he can't… "The sushi," Kasai says. "It… when I eat so much. It…" He shrugs. "You know."

Kame nods quickly. Just as well he didn't say anything. It _was_ a lot of sushi, and Kasai won his team the solar powered toaster.

"I hate those games myself," he says as they march quickly back to the minibus. "They're so pointless."

"And so unfair," Kasai says. "I mean, when you… when you don't want to eat that much," he ends in a mumble.

 _Now_ Kame gets it.

"It's not good for you," he says, matter-of-factly, with a shrug back at where they've come from.

"I know. I'm sorry. But losing my job's bad for me, too."

Nothing Kame can say to that, so he just nods. "Well, better make up some story for when we get to the bus. Before I tell everybody about your horrible diarrhea."

It works; Kasai laughs.

Jin would approve.

 

### 15:30 (Ginza)

The break room is full when Jin arrives, sneaking in late with Takahisa, who's nearly as likely to be called in early as he is.

Kimura-senpai is sitting at the table, holding his arm bent with a bit of cotton wool on the prick mark and making Yuu-chan blush with a tale of evil nurses. Jun is still waiting, reading something on the computer, and all the other seats are taken, though Danny indicates tiredly Jin can have the arm of the couch. Jin gestures at the coffee machine first.

"Hey, you got the day off?" Satoshi asks him from the end of the couch where he's picking at some low calorie rice crackers, taking in the khaki slacks and casual shirt.

Jin helps himself to coffee and shrugs easily. "Just a regular. Doesn't need the suit."

"Jin-senpai!" Yuuya waves him over energetically, shuffling sideways until he's only half on the chair. Jin feels a little silly sharing one seat like they're twelve and tiny. He feels even sillier with Kimura on the other side of the table, smiling quirkily and wearing a dishevelled shirt and tie that look like dishevelled was how they were always meant to be.

"We were just talking about dentists," Yuuya informs him.

"Hi Jin," Kimura says. "I was just trying to impress Yuuya-kun with my bravery with needles, but then he told me about having a tooth extracted and I felt like such a baby."

Jin instinctively covers his teeth with his lips. "That… must hurt," he says.

"It hurt a bit while healing," Yuu-chan says. "But the guy I was with took good care of me and I got to eat lots of ice cream." He's smiling at them both, but Jin feels like he missed the start of the joke. It's kind of uncomfortable to keep his balance on half the chair, and he wonders if he's started putting on weight.

"What was wrong with the tooth?" he asks.

"Oh, half my teeth were all crooked and awful," Yuu-chan laughs lightly. "It's much better now." A perfect line of white is what it is now. Solid investment, probably. At least nobody's saying it. Jin doesn't want to think about the guy who paid for it.

They all look when the door opens; it's Tatsuya, in jeans and a tight silvery top, with the expected piece of cotton pressed into his elbow. "Next, please," he says. Next is Jun, who leaves with a long-suffering sigh while Tatsuya examines his locker for the next elegant outfit.

"Were you flirting with the doctor again, Takuya-san?" he chides with a smile. "The poor man was all aflutter."

The doctor is a fifty-something straight guy who's never been anything but terse and efficient with Jin.

Kimura pouts. It doesn't even look ridiculous. "I like to talk to all my colleagues, even the peripheral kind. I was merely interested in his take on my Meiji apothecary cabinet. Didn't you know he's a man of taste?"

"And what did he say?"

"He completely agreed with my theory for dating it before the last century."

Jin feels out of place even with Yuu-chan beside him. If Tatsuya is in a different league from Jin, then Kimura-senpai…

For a moment Jin wonders what Kame was like with him. If they could do all the relaxed sophisticated things Kame likes and then talked about foreign relations and the latest fashion in Italy and wherever. Kimura probably never asked for pasta and tomato sauce, either.

He wishes the doctor, aflutter or not, would get a move on. This isn't stuff he wanted to think about anymore. He wants to get the tests done and then get to Kame's place. Maybe they'll cook again.

"I don't know," Tatsuya is saying, "I would assume managing women isn't without its complications either. I haven't decided yet."

Jin missed how the women got into the conversation, or whom Tatsuya wants to manage. But then Jun is back and they talk about host clubs and not needing so many STD tests and the interesting advice Tatsuya got from Konoe-san on creative taxation one rainy day.

"That's a bit into the future, isn't it," Yuuya says just to him, smiling again, his perfect white smile, and Jin thinks of hamsters and car mechanics and Kame taking him to parties now, as long as it's safe to bring his paid escort.

While he's in with the doctor, having his blood drawn, his throat checked and a pee cup handed to him with hardly a word passing between them, he briefly thinks of Nakamaru with his odd awareness, Nakamaru who doesn't want the fake affection either. He wonders what the man would be like trying it with a boyfriend. Then the doctor sends him off and Jin remembers it's not his habit to wonder stuff about clients.

The sun has been swallowed by moody clouds when he gets back outside, his overnight bag over his shoulder. He waves goodbye at Hina, who's heading out on a house call. There's a sharp wind making him shiver in his coat, the clouds moving fast. No point going home again, though; he'll stop for a coffee somewhere, answer a few of Tomo's funny mails. He hopes they'll both make it in before the rain.

 

### 18:00 (Odawara Castle)

Rain is drumming onto the roof of their minibus. The camera team is parked next to them in the lot outside Odawara Castle, peering miserably out into the gloom. They alternate between keeping the doors closed for heat, and opening them to unsteam the windows.

Kame snaps his cell phone shut and tries to stop the happiness spreading all over his face. It's still embargoed, he can't tell anybody, not even his colleagues. But that was Hamaguchi, and the assassin role is his. They liked his quietly intense portrayal, the hints at the detailed psychology Kame had constructed while studying for the part. All that hard work paid off. And there'll be more now, and it'll be tricky and challenging and god, so much _fun_ , he can hardly wait.

It makes it even more difficult to stay quiet in his seat, sit around with nothing to do.

They're supposed to be on their way back by now. Shooting was meant to take less than half an hour.

"The forecast was excellent," Takeda repeats for the seventh time since they spotted the black clouds on the road here. She sounds like she's planning to take it up with someone in a position of authority.

It's frustrating right enough. Costumed outdoor interviews in front of a dramatic dusk backdrop sounded like a good idea all round, until Abe had to flip the wipers on with a rueful, "Sorry," to Takeda, and Hayashi had to hand over her wager of a wrapped rice cracker to Endo.

When Takeda isn't remonstrating with the gods, she's on the phone. To the promotion agency, who decided that a floodlit castle will do, now that dusk is over; to the studio in which Kame is due for a VTR shoot at seven-thirty.

Kame snuck out into the rain earlier, to protests from the make-up artist and with an umbrella borrowed from Hayashi, to let Jin know he might be a little late; to tell him just to let himself in and wait and he'd be home eventually.

He's not missing out on seeing Jin this week if he can help it.

And he can tell Jin about the assassin. It gives him an extra little kick, just to think he'll get to do that later.

"Let's just go out there now," Endo is saying. "Samurai got wet all the time, right? It'll lend an air of authenticity."

Kame's up for that.

"Running eyeliner isn't an authentic part of samurai appearance," the make-up artist mentions, and she has a point, too.

"I think rich merchant's daughters were protected from the elements," Hayashi says with a smile. "They wouldn't be cavorting with strange men in the rain in front of night-time castles."

"Oh, come on," Endo says. "We're not _that_ strange."

"But it would be okay if it's dry?" Kame asks.

"At least her parents wouldn't notice that she was out."

"I'll shelter you under my cloak!" Endo's grandiose gesture manages to hit Kasai's headrest in front of him, and the boy startles out of his snooze. It's been a long day for all of them.

"You're the bad guy," Hayashi says mercilessly. "You can't shelter me. Kamenashi-san's going to chop your head off."

It's a shame those two never got much screen time together, Kame thinks, because they clicked in a very nice way.

"I would shelter you," he says regretfully, "only they never gave me a proper cloak."

Takeda ends another phone call and looks up briefly. "The cloak is an accessory for evil. Good guys don't get one."

Kame laughs. "Also it makes me look shorter."

Endo wipes steam off the window again and gazes out longingly. "Sabotaged by the lead's lack of height. What a sad story."

"I liked it better when the gods were being blamed." Kame says.

Endo grins. "But this is more fun. Let's see whom we can blame next."

With the tinny tapping of rain persisting overhead, they start to make a case against the driver.

~

 _Chapter 45 to follow 12/01/2012_


	45. Chapter 45

### Wednesday 4 March

"I have the key," Jin says, resisting the urge to pat down his bag for proof. He knows he's got the key. The pretty girl on the seat opposite smiles at him.

"It's just traffic," Kame is saying. "I'll be as quick as I can, there's just one short thing left when we get in, they already cancelled an interview. Just make yourself at home, okay? You know how it all works? You got the code?"

"I have the code," Jin repeats, starting to feel like he's in a spy movie. "And the key. And I know how your light switches work. It'll be fine."

"Okay. Okay, great. I'll be quick."

"Don't get in an accident."

"I'm not driving! Okay, I have to go – see you later?"

"Yes, sure." He still hears a woman's voice talking to Kamenashi-san before Kame rings off. Jin flips his phone shut. It's all good. He can totally let himself into Kame's apartment. He's got a key.

It's half past eight and the subway is a busy mix of people stumbling home from the office or already dressed up for a night out. The girl opposite is in a tiny skirt with big fluffy boots underneath. After the phone call she's stopped trying to catch his eye.

He hopes Kame's not too stressed. There seemed to be a lot of useless waiting around when he called earlier to remind Jin about the key.

Jin pats the bag down after all and grins at himself.

Then it's his stop. Not many people getting off here and he's mostly alone in the street, huddling under his umbrella to protect his hair and feeling a singing lightness in his step.

Letting himself in is just as easy as Kame's been telling him. The outside gate works with the laser thing on the keyring. On the upper landing he keeps an eye out for nosy neighbours, not that he'd really know what to say; but Kame has sensible tenants who don't get out on balconies in the rain. Then he dumps the umbrella in Kame's hallway and scrambles to kick off his shoes, because even though Kame said he's got a minute, the last thing they need is unexpected police intervention.

He punches in the security code and yes, there's the green light, and Jin breathes easy and finally stops to have a look around. Kame's apartment without Kame. It looks kind of weird.

And tidy. Even the coffee cup in the sink is already rinsed. Not that Jin expected a big mess, he knows Kame too well by now. But it makes him look out for the little things that are out of place, show somebody actually lives here even if he's a compulsive neat freak.

He doesn't really know what to do with himself, anyway. Standing around watching the neatness isn't what Kame meant by comfortable either.

A stack of papers on the corner table by the couch, not quite neatly aligned, turns out to be the script for the first three episodes of that cook drama. Jin tries to remember when it starts, but can't. Soon, anyway. Maybe he should make himself a little calendar with Kame's schedule. Only then things like tonight happen and it all gets messed up anyway.

He grins at the badly folded t-shirt on the bed. Going by the faint stains on the front, Kame was using it for cooking last night. Or eating, at least. He feels like a private detective – or maybe spy, after all – when he picks it up and tries to identify what it was. Oil, maybe. It doesn't smell of anything, except of Kame's deodorant.

Okay, if anybody saw him standing and sniffing Kame's used t-shirt, they'd rightly think he was a little strange.

He straightens out the corners as he puts it down.

More papers on the table, this time with signatures and figures and… oh. Jin steps away as soon as it's sunk in, but by then it's of course too late, and he really feels like a spy and not in the good way. It's not his business to know how much Kame gets for a single suit commercial.

The cook is safer; the cook will be fun, and he'll be able to imagine Kame in those scenes and later see if he got it right. With the script in hand and his feet up on the couch, he settles for the wait. It shouldn't be long.

Kame's ringtone starts in his pocket just as he's realizing he isn't used to reading stuff with stage directions. "Hi," he says, trying not to rustle the papers.

"Hi!" comes Kame's relieved voice. "Where are you, are you at home?"

"Yeah, and nothing exploded when I tried to get in. Where are you?"

"Somewhere… on a gridlocked highway in the mist." Kame sounds resigned. "Stuck behind a truck, I can't see what's going on, our driver is teaching us lots of new words."

That doesn't sound good. "More delay, then?"

"Right now, I don't even know how much. Traffic channel says there was an accident and they're clearing it off, then we have to get moving again…"

"You were supposed to be filming something now, weren't you?"

"Yeah, VTR, that's been postponed, too." There's a hint of frazzled in Kame's voice; Jin can imagine how frustrated he'll be. "We'll do it as soon as I get in."

"Okay," Jin says. "Don't worry about me, I'm okay here. Very comfortable." He stretches out on the couch as if to prove it, and maybe Kame can hear the soft slide on the leather.

"There's some Chinese in the fridge, and the housekeeper puts meals in the freezer," Kame says. "You should eat something."

"Hm," Jin says. He's still okay, they would normally not have eaten before now, anyway. "I'll check it out when I get hungry."

"Do," Kame says. "And you know you can—" There's a pause. "You know how the DVD player works, and how to turn the heating up, right?"

Jin grins. "Little remote controls everywhere. I think I can manage."

"Okay." Another pause, it's like Kame is thinking… and of course he's thinking, he's in a car full of people, talking to his sex date. They probably think he's on the phone to his wife.

"I know you can't say much," Jin says quickly. "But really, don't worry, I'm fine here and I don't mind waiting."

This time he's sure he hears a smile in Kame's voice. "Okay. I'm glad. I'll keep in touch, let you know how it's going."

They ring off. So… okay. Probably at least another hour. Good thing he has a script to finish.

*~*~*

When he puts the pages down half an hour later the room feels entirely too dimly lit. He also remembers that Kame usually locks the door. Right, better do that.

On his way to the door he puts the script back where it was and puts Sunday's newspaper on top just so he's not suddenly reminded. That cook is a very worrisome guy, with the knives and the ominous revenge talk.

Just as he turns the key and puts the bolt in place, there is an approaching metallic screech, holy fuck— oh, right. The neighbours and their awning. Jin shakes his head. Never got around to that oil job, apparently.

He takes a deep breath and puts the shoes and the umbrella he left in a hurry in a slightly more orderly state. And then he finds the remote to let the blinds down, because it's dark outside.

While he's standing, he considers the drinks cabinet. But it's only a little tempting; and not a good idea when he hasn't even eaten yet. He'll wait.

He told Tomo about the Drambuie, without mentioning Kame of course, but Tomo laughed and said there wasn't much call for something like that in a bar like his. Jin hadn't even meant it like that - he's happy for this to be a drink he only has with Kame and nowhere else.

But he didn't say that to Tomo, either, even though things have been fine between them, really fine. It's just polite, to keep Kame off Tomo's radar when Tomo doesn't like him, and Jin's sure Kame prefers it that way, too.

They tried out that song Jin wrote last week, and it was okay, they got some cheers, but they were also pretty wobbly still. Would have helped if Jin hadn't written the second half in such a hurry that he barely knew some bits himself, if Tomo hadn't had to more-or-less sight-read it after a cramped rehearsal in the office. Tomo made himself a photocopy of the music and they'll sound better tomorrow.

He gets his phone out, slides it open again. He's replied to three mails from Tomo today already, and they keep coming. Jin really needs to remember to turn off his phone when he's with clients these days. Thanks to Tomo he'd be buzzing all the time.

"Konbachiwa!" the latest one starts, like the dozens before it. "Eating noodles now. Oodles of noodles." He's found an emoji that looks suspiciously like green strands of ramen, or maybe it's wool and you're supposed to use your imagination. "Eat-all-you-can at the Ramen Palace. Tomorrow too, go before bar?" The one before that asks what the coffee's like at the café where Jin waited for their last rounds of mails. Sometimes he loses track of all the conversations they're having at once.

"Double espresso decent, resisted banana muffin, but music too low milk foamers too loud. You practicing for tomorrow?" he types back, hits send, then remembers the oodles of noodles and thinks that's exactly how things get all confused. He considers. He can't have all noodles, all the time, but eat-all-you-can is a good deal if he skips lunch. And one good thing about stuffing your face with the guy in charge, nobody's going to make them go on while they're still feeling fat and immobilized.

"Ramen Palace tomorrow sounds good!" he writes. "Around six?"

There is another mail in which Tomo describes a lady's peculiar shopping, and by the time Jin has commented on the seven pineapples he's no longer worried about odd shadows or the corners of the room he can't see. It's Kame's room, Kame's couch, and at the other end of his e-mails is his friend.

Then he nearly jumps out of his skin when the phone rings just as he's putting it down. Kame. "Hey," he says softly, smiling already. "Don't you have work to do?"

"I do!" Kame sounds less stressed. The background noises are different too. "And it looks like I'm finally getting to do it, we just got in. Everybody's run for the toilets after we were stuck in a minibus for two and a half hours. So I thought this was a good opportunity…"

Jin makes his best straight face at the phone. "You make the most amazing sacrifices to keep me informed."

"Absolutely." No, not just less stressed – positively bouncy. "I got the assassin, by the way."

Oh wow. "Hey, congratulations!" Jin knows a lot about the assassin now, Kame has seen to that. Last time, it was speculation about whether he got on with his father, over deluxe sushi. "That's great!"

"My agent called me earlier. It's not supposed to be public yet, but, well." There's a big smile in Kame's voice. "Anyway, so I had to wait for a chance to tell you."

And waiting until he got home would just not have worked. Jin pictures Kame bursting with the news and grins.

"That's really cool," he says. "I know how much you wanted that one."

"I sure did!" Kame is grinning too. "So, have you eaten?"

"What?"

"Have you—"

"No," Jin says. "I wasn't hungry."

"But it's late," Kame says, suddenly so mournfully that Jin has to bite his lip not to laugh at him.

"I wasn't hungry. I'll eat when I get hungry, okay? So… you'll be another half hour now?"

"Once our manager is, well, back, she's going to talk to the production people for the VTR. It's pretty tight now for getting it done at all, so with luck we'll just rush through it in one take and then, yeah, I'll be done."

"Sounds good."

"Sounds wonderful," Kame says, and for a moment Jin thinks he can hear the exhaustion in his voice. "I'll get the driver to take me home, but that's still going to be another… well, almost hour." He sighs. "Do me a favour?"

"Of course," Jin says. "What?"

"Eat something."

Jin wants to laugh, he's already taken a breath, but— maybe he can take that at least off the list of things Kame has to worry about.

"I'll have the Chinese," he says, and feels bad when Kame sounds so grateful.

"Great. You'll find the rice?"

"I'll find the rice," he vows. "Good luck with the recording. And don't let the _driver_ get you in an accident either."

"I'll tell him to be careful," Kame promises, and then he has to run.

Okay, rice; rice-maker; Chinese.

Kame's fridge is just as neat as the rest of the apartment, surprise surprise. Jin goes through several cupboards and ends up shaking his head at the size of Kame's kitchen, but also with the rice doing its thing in the rice-maker and something yellow containing chicken heating up in the microwave.

It feels strange while he waits, turning Kame's little triangular saltshaker, wondering if his wife bought it. Wondering how often Kame calls his wife when he's late.

And then no longer wondering stupid things because he's not stupid.

Right, there's the ping. It smells delicious, and maybe Kame was right, maybe it was time to eat.

*~*~*

The prosecutor's in the middle of a speech that overwhelms the smug business tycoon's defense with its logic and slaughters it with its passion. Jin smiles to himself. He pulls his socked feet up under him. It's warm enough, really, except for his nose and his toes. He doesn't quite trust himself with all those remotes.

He has a dishtowel on his lap for eating, and the chicken leftovers are good. He even has a bit more rice than he should because he's enjoying the drama and this is comfortable and relaxing. The only way it would be better is if he could stick his feet under Kame's legs for warmth.

Assassins. More creepy stuff. Jin grins to himself. At least the dreary workday got Kame some good news.

The prosecutor looks heroic and extremely pretty over a grim stack of files, defending his perseverance to an evil or misguided boss.

Reaching out for his drink, Jin wonders if Kame would lend him the DVD for the rest of the episodes. He didn't dare open any of Kame's wines for fear he'd waste the grand magic year of grape so-and-so, but he's having a beer.

Then the phone rings. Jin shakes his head before he even picks up.

"Hey," Kame says. He sounds sad.

Jin sits up carefully, putting the rice bowl on the table. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I'm doing… there was a photo thing earlier that got cancelled and now we're doing it after all, and I won't do the VTR, I'll do it live, and this is going to take forever."

"Oh. Are you… when is this thing, how long is it on?" "

"Starts eleven-thirty. I'm on for fifteen minutes about ten minutes in. It'll be midnight before I get out of here."

"Oh, that sucks."

Kame laughs a little. "Yeah. It kind of does. So listen."

This can't be good. "Listening." No, he can _guess_.

"If you'd rather be at home instead of bored at my place—"

Mr Predictable. "I'm not bored."

"Yeah, but… I'd understand, I promise. This can't be fun for you."

"I ate all your leftovers. And half your rice," Jin says quickly. "And I'm watching your drama and my feet are warm." Well, they will be. He'll try the remote after all. "I'm very full and very okay."

It's like he can feel Kame hesitate through the radio waves. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. If you want to get rid of me, you'll have to say so straight out."

"I don't want to get rid of you."

"Well, there we are. So get to your—"

"Yes, I have to." Suddenly Kame sounds urgent. "There's… yeah, I have to go. Later, then."

"Later," Jin says, but the click cuts him off.

*~*~*

So he's got about two and a half hours now, and, well. It's late. It's late enough that normal people would get comfortable, _really_ comfortable, not sit around at home in slacks and a good shirt. It's also late enough that Jin's last shower was almost half a day ago – _will_ have been half a day ago by the time Kame comes home, and in between there were subway rides and prodding doctors. So.

He's brought sweatpants and a hoodie. And he knows Kame's shower well enough by now.

Somehow it's weird again, getting naked here all by himself, and he double-checks the door though he still remembers locking it. He also puts all the lights on, never mind global warming. It's friendlier that way.

Kame's shampoo and shower gel are soothing and familiar and he spends longer under the shower than he has to, just enjoying. Whenever he's showered here Kame was waiting outside, so he never took any time to experiment with the spray thing and the bit that massages his neck. It's really quite nice, once you know how not to get mauled.

The thing with the remote worked, and the living room is cozy and warm when he gets out at last, wrapped up in a towel with another one around his hair.

And that's of course when he hears the scratching at the… window? He almost didn't yelp at all there, nope, just had a moment where he thought very very fast and _cat_. He eases his grip on the towel. And there the scratching is again.

It can wait, he decides. He's not going to open the window for a fanged psychopath when he's not even got clothes on yet. Where did he put his clothes again?

Two minutes later he's dressed in fleece and soft cotton, has a new towel around his head against the cold, and opens the window cautiously. He saw the cat biscuits in the fridge, and he recognized the cat bowls when he was hunting for the rice earlier. So that's all easy.

"I don't like you," he says to the cat, after he's gingerly pushed out the bowl for her and quickly pulled his hand back. "I'm just putting up with you because he does."

The cat looks at him, and proceeds to crunch on crunchy things.

Now he's probably supposed to be grateful he's being ignored, not clawed. Whatever.

He clears his dinner stuff away, keeping an eye on the crunching outside the window. At some point the cat turns leisurely before waddling away, and Jin quickly gets the bowl in before lowering the blinds again. That's better.

At least he can tell Kame the cat didn't suffer for his absence either.

*~*~*

"Hey," Kame says. Jin's not laughing anymore; he can just about restrain himself from petting the phone.

"Hi. How are you doing?"

"Fine. I shook hands with the last living son of Saigou Takamori."

"Not bad." Jin fishes for the remote and pauses the episode. "Any more scheduling news?"

"No, not really. I'm waiting to go on the live feed now. I just wanted to know how you were."

"I'm great," Jin says instantly. "Warm. Comfortable." He thinks. Kame doesn't sound in a rush. "I tried out some different shower settings and now I'm watching the rest of your law drama."

"Good," Kame says fervently. "Comfortable is good."

"Do you have to get up early tomorrow?"

" _No_ , thank fuck."

"Good, I'm glad. We can sleep in. I don't have to be anywhere until the Open Mic tomorrow night, we can sleep all day!" God, it would be wonderful, a whole day, just them…

Kame laughs faintly. "That sounds tempting, but I think if I don't show up at the studio after lunch, they might send somebody round to get me."

"Ah," Jin says, "okay. That would be bad. Guess we'll just have to figure out a compromise."

"Do that. I'm in your hands," Kame says, sounding a little formal and a little more cheerful. And then he says, "I have to go. There are always… there are people who want to speak to me. I should speak to them." There's almost a giggle. "What I'm doing, it's not polite."

"I see," Jin says.

"So, I'll leave you to… maybe you should have a nap or something. I'll only call if there's going to be another delay and I don't make it back until June."

"Yeah, okay," Jin says, glancing at the TV guide beside him which tells him exactly what channel Kame is going to be on in fifteen minutes. "Good luck!"

"Thank you. See you later." And off he goes again.

Jin watches ten more minutes of the episode before he gets himself another beer and curls up in the corner of the couch while a bunch of Hokkaido talk show people make a big fuss over getting to interview Kame via live feed and talk at great length about their nerves, though Jin thinks the most nervous one is the young chick who doesn't actually say anything.

Right, there's… stars or something, and a promo montage of Kame handling a sword and looking manly while standing half-dressed in two feet of snow. Jin shivers.

The TV guide still says VTR but here is Kame, live and smiling brightly, waving through the camera at a squealing studio audience and the wider TV public like he's just had the most relaxing afternoon. At least there's no snow.

He doesn't look too tired, Jin thinks. And he's cute, getting bashful when the hosts heap praise on him and are amazed he took time out of his schedule for them. The young one is bright red when she asks him where he's been promoting his movie.

Kame says he got the chance to spend the whole afternoon at some castle, and they were slightly delayed by rain, which is why he asked to come on live. An older guy in the studio who seems to be another guest is laughing.

"At least I can defend myself if you start telling outrageous stories about me," he says. Kame laughs in return and waves it off like he would never dare, looking far more innocent than he really is. But the old guy seems to like the reverence. Jin finds him a little smug.

Apparently they were in a school drama together and Kame was meant to comment on this guy's new film as a boxing instructor. But now that they've got him there to answer questions the hosts don't ask a single question about boxing, and are far more interested in how much Kame suffered from the rain and how he manages not to catch cold with his schedule like that. Jin hopes they let him dry his hair at least and let him have blankets and hot tea.

Okay, Kame's suggesting whisky, "for those old enough." That would work too. Jin tugs his feet between the sofa cushions and thinks of other ways to warm up. Also for those old enough. He laughs a little to himself. At least it won't take much longer now.

Kame is praising his colleagues now. "You don't really know your co-stars until you've been stuck in a damp minibus with them for a few hours," he adds with a wink at the shy host, who promptly forgets what she was going to say. Everyone was such a good sport, everyone worked really hard… Jin is reminded of Kame's praise for the pregnant lady. But he likes seeing Kame so enthusiastic, even if it keeps him late. It'll be okay when they can sleep in.

It's Kame who brings it back to the old guy's movie, and the old guy raises his chin and looks even more smug. Jin really doesn't like him. There's a dramatic ring scene with split lips and cut cheeks, and a lot of manful endurance.

Jin never got the point of boxing. But Kame seems so enthusiastic, it could almost be baseball.

It goes on for a while, and it would be boring if not for Kame, who must really like this part of his job almost as much as the acting or he couldn't be so good at it. Better than the hosts, in Jin's opinion. He's relaxed, and still excited, and he manages to give everyone a compliment as they wind down. No wonder they like him on those shows.

Then he's gone. Something about girls in bunny costumes is next. Jin turns off the TV and stretches back. Good thing the stress and hassle is at least worth it, that Kame enjoys this sort of circus.

Suddenly he pictures Kame in funny red pants and outmaneuvering lions, and he laughs. Okay, maybe he's getting tired.

Another hour, give or take. At least there shouldn't be much traffic. And Jin can watch more TV, or maybe… maybe he could really take a nap. There's enough time.

He surveys the room but he didn't leave any mess. The lights are low and comfortable and he's going to leave them that way. And he eyes the couch and eyes the bed, and the bed feels a little weirder when Kame's not here but he might as well get a proper rest, so he doesn't go sleepy on Kame in an important moment. He smiles to himself and manages not to get embarrassed. Kame's really waited long enough.

He lies down on top of the tidy smooth sheets with his comfy clothes on, though. It's more nap-ish that way, less official. There's a faint scent of Kame, or something familiar at least. He curls up a little and thinks of calm things, happy things, like Kame still looking stylish and competent in a top hat and magicking bunnies around.

*~*~*

There's a bicycle crash outside the club, awfully loud and full of metal and… Kame's soft voice, going, "Oh," and Jin blinks his eyes open. Not a bicycle. He squirms upright while there are more soft noises coming from the hallway, something taking forever, and then Kame moves into view, sort of stepping over something but like his legs are not very experienced.

"Sorry," he says, "sorry, that was…" There's nothing else coming, just a faint shake of Kame's head and a deep sigh as he looks at the floor.

"Umbrella stand?" Jin guesses, the words all scratchy. He clears his throat. "I fell asleep."

"Yeah. Sorry about the umbrella." Kame is blinking at him too, and Jin wonders if he took a nap in the car.

"It will forgive you," Jin smiles. He pats over some of the wrinkles he made in the sheet. "Hi."

Kame makes it to the foot of the bed. "Hi." He stares around the room, though Jin's pretty sure he's not looking for a mess. "Did you… there was food, right? And it's warm?"

Jin nods. "All good. I ate, I showered, I slept. Stop worrying."

"I was just worried." He almost sounds a little drunk. Then he sighs again, and it's weird how good he looks with that blusher and eye makeup, more than Jin ever wears for anyone, and how Kame is disappearing behind it all, his eyes hazy and his voice drifting. "I'm so glad you waited." He looks it, too, like he's just found the door out of a maze and there's Jin waiting outside; that's how he looks at him.

It makes Jin feel a little woozy.

"Of course I waited," he says, slowly scooting forward on the bed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Kame says. "All good. This day… it's been so long."

It's kind of cute, that word fight going on, only Jin's heart beats thickly for a guy who's so tired he can't even talk.

Kame drags his eyes over the wrinkled bed and then he stares at Jin again. "Is it okay if we just sleep?"

Jin almost laughs. It's so profound a request he's not even going to try to have suggestions. "Of course it's okay."

Kame sighs again in great relief. Yeah, definitely cute.

"I'll have to shower," Kame says, sounding like he's talking to himself, sounding reluctant. His hair is the same tidy shape as on TV, but duller and artificial-looking, fading perfection. Lots of gunk in there. "I'll do that now."

And then he stands there and doesn't move.

Jin doesn't even wait long. Kame gives him a curious look as he gets up from the bed, and remains vaguely puzzled until Jin is right in front of him, putting his hands on the sleeves of that two-hundred-thousand-yen suit.

"I'll help." Kame takes a breath, like he's dragging up some energy from somewhere, and Jin says quickly, "Just help."

Kame's shoulders sink, and he sighs again. "You don't have to."

"I know. But I know your shower, too. It's just waiting for a vulnerable moment so it can finish you off."

Kame laughs a little and obediently lifts his chin so Jin can fumble about with his tie. He's got his eyes closed.

It's weird, peeling Kame out of his clothes when neither of them is thinking about sex. It's weird peeling Kame out of his clothes, period, because when they _are_ thinking about sex, Kame doesn't hang around waiting for Jin to… wait on him. Kame likes taking _Jin's_ clothes off; likes unbuttoning his shirt and slipping his hand under the fabric and around Jin's back as he pulls him in and they can feel each other's hard-ons grow. They don't do it the other way round.

They aren't doing it now, either. But maybe…

Jin finishes with the buttons, gathering his courage, and then he just does it, slides his hands under, where Kame's skin is warm and a little clammy, and draws him close.

Kame just comes, just leans against him. Doesn't say a thing. Stands there and breathes and seems settled in for the night, while Jin's hand runs slow circles over his back.

So much for project shower, then. But Jin doesn't have the heart to move them on.

In the end it's Kame, who twitches sharply like somebody startled him out of a power-nap, only when he blinks up at Jin he doesn't look any more awake.

"If I don't have a shower now, I'll have to sleep on the couch." He makes a fumbly attempt at his fly, but his hands fall away as soon as Jin picks up where he left off. Belt, zip, pants, underwear, and Kame finishes with the socks himself while Jin holds him steady. Once he's drawn another deep breath he even walks in a straight line to the bathroom. Jin quickly strips off of his clothes and follows.

Kame is setting out a towel on the rim of the bathtub, all very orderly. He looks at Jin for a moment before he gets the point of the nudity. "You… really?"

"I said I'd help," Jin says. He holds the shower door open for Kame, and Kame is smiling a weird little smile when he lets Jin guide him inside.

They fit easily. Big millionaire-filmstar shower. Jin reaches around Kame and puts it on the gentle Jin-setting. No pummelling for anybody tonight. This morning. Whatever.

Kame exhales long and loud as he first gets soaked, just standing still. He looks around distractedly but Jin's got it covered, picking up the soft girly-blue sponge that might just have special skin care features.

There's a breath like Kame is about to say something, but then he doesn't. Jin starts on his shoulders.

"You really waited a long time," Kame mumbles. "I hope you weren't…" He obediently lifts his arms when Jin runs the sponge up his side, and ends up bracing himself against the wall. "…too bored."

"I really wasn't," Jin insists. He picks up the soap with its fine lavender smell, starts to work up some foam. "I watched your thing."

Kame tilts his head forward. It feels like a tired invitation, like he enjoys the circles Jin runs over his back. "Oh."

"You looked good. Like you had fun."

"Oh. I'm glad. That took some doing, so late… after that day…" And his back still feels tense, and Jin gets a little wistful realizing it wasn't real, just a good performance on a sucky night. "I just wanted to get home."

Jin steps closer and draws his arms around him, starts soaping down Kame's stomach. Kame says nothing for a while.

"Hey," Jin says eventually, "Kame. Is it okay… I deal with down there too? Or do you want to?"

Kame shakes his head very faintly, and with the way he's staying still and confined in Jin's arms Jin takes it as yes to the first, and slides a soapy hand down to Kame's dick.

It's a little weird to touch him there, like this, all practical and careful. Kame… Jin thinks he's leaning against him a little, but he's not hard, and not trying to be.

Jin lets him go when he's done there, but sticks close, resuming the circles with the sponge. Kame's probably clean by now, but it's so soothing, they're both so warm and Kame somehow manages to be dead weight standing up.

"You're so nice," Kame says, with his eyes closed. His make-up has started to run, watery black tracks and some blotches in the smooth concealer, and it would look a little creepy if Kame weren't such a giant ball of mush right now. "This is nice."

"I think so too," Jin says close by Kame's ear. "I think you have to wash your face yourself, though."

Kame sighs, rubbing at his eyes as he blinks them open. "You know. Everybody calls me Kame." He sounds like this is a very grievous thing.

Jin laughs, thinking that little less than two hours ago Kame was charming the pants off some TV host, and now here he is mumbling randomness and letting Jin soap off his dick. "What else should people call you?" he asks, angling for the shampoo.

"Not people," Kame complains and lets Jin spread the stuff through his wet gunky mess of hair. "I don't care."

Jin rubs carefully, wary of tangles, and something feels funny all of a sudden. "What else should I call you?"

"Kazuya," Kame says. "That's my name."

Jin doesn't stop massaging the shampoo into Kame's hair; it smells of pine, which goes nicely with the lavender. He doesn't get emotional or anything. "Okay," he says into Kame's neck. "I can do that. Kazuya."

Kame stretches his neck and makes a happy little sound.

They get his hair rinsed, and Jin carries on with the conditioner. Kame starts apologizing for being so much work. He needs a special gel for washing his face and he manages to focus enough to spread it around and not get it in his eyes. "Your skin is so nice," he says wistfully, and Jin gets close and just holds him, leaning his face into the bend of Kame's neck. Because he wants to.

Also gets him properly wet, which is better than being damp and dripping in random places. They rinse Kame's hair again and Kame gets the gel stuff off his face, and then that's pretty much it.

It's cold when they step out of the cubicle, and Jin quickly feeds Kame into his bathrobe and wraps the towel around his head. "Stay." He points at the edge of the bath. "Sit." Kame giggles softly while Jin quickly gets himself a big bath towel from the shelf. He should have remembered to bring his own bathrobe from the bedroom.

Once he's got the towel around his shoulders, things are better and he can concentrate on drying Kame off. Kame who's stayed, and is sitting, and doing nothing at all, a stray strand of hair dripping softly and leaving dark streaks on the blue-and-red cotton of his bathrobe.

"Will you catch a cold if we don't dry that?" he asks once he's towelled the hair as much as it will go, leaving it sticking up this way and that. Jin's is still wetter and just as bad.

"No, it's fine," Kame says heavily. Jin cards through the mess for a moment, and Kame holds just as still as before.

"We're going straight to bed, yes?" he asks. "You don't want a drink?" Kame shakes his head again. "Something to eat? Did you get food out there?"

Kame frowns. "There were sandwiches. A couple of times. Bento for lunch."

That doesn't sound good. "I could make something…"

"I'm not hungry now. Just tired."

Okay. "Okay. Bed then."

It's Jin who pulls back the covers; Kame just slumps down on the bed like all his muscles went on vacation. Jin smiles as he switches off the bedside lamp.

Naked and with wet hair, it feels strange at first, but they're both still warm; even from the other side of the bed Jin can feel Kame's body heat. He reaches out to touch but there's movement and then Kame is closer, and suddenly he's plastered against Jin and slumps, again.

Jin holds still. There's not even a question. Just a sigh, and more dead weight that smells of pine and lavender, and Kame's warm skin; Kame's arm wrapped possessively around him, and his damp hair cool on Jin's shoulder.

"It was raining _all_ day," Kame says, his nose squished against Jin's chest.

Jin wants to laugh, but somehow it won't come out. He's not sure how tight to hold on. "Better now, isn't it?" he says.

"Yes, everything's better now," Kame agrees, and the weight gets a little bit deader. Jin carefully reaches up to pat the damp hair, tightening his arm around Kame's back; when Kame holds him he feels strong like this. Kame hums something wordless.

Good that they skipped the sleepwear, that they're touching all over. Kame seems to need it.

He wonders when Kame will let go. Draw back and figure that's the polite thing to do, apologize maybe; say good night in that cute sleepy voice.

But he doesn't. He doesn't even move.

If Jin teased him about it tomorrow he'd probably blush. Jin smiles and closes his eyes, his arm more securely around the poor sleep-deprived man. All good. This is good. He makes sure Kame's shoulders are covered by the blanket, and Kame doesn't stir.

 

### Thursday 5 March

When Kame opens his eyes, Jin is lying chastely on the other side of the bed. Looking at him. Kame blinks fuzzily, remembering where he is, who's with him, and why the world is so warm and peaceful. Jin starts to smile.

"What," Kame says, and the smile turns wider. "Wait…" He pats in the general direction of his head and right enough… "My hair, right?"

Jin snorts a little giggle, and still his eyes are fixed on Kame's face.

"Yours looks no better," Kame says, but the hilarity is contagious. Also it's a lie. But he has to defend himself, sort of.

"Good morning," Jin says at last. From the light through the blinds Kame can tell it's a bright day outside, probably sunny. "Idiot, I'm not staring at your hair. I'm just watching you."

Oh. "What, why?"

"Because you're cute when you're asleep. Because I've been awake for an hour and it was the most fun thing around."

Kame's brain is still a little slow. Like his bones are sleepy, like he's done some crazy charity sports thing. Or maybe he's just a wimp. "Are you trying to make me blush?"

Jin stretches under the cover. "You're cute when you blush, too." But then he turns more serious. "How are you feeling today? Did you get enough sleep?"

"I'm good," Kame says. He could say much more, waking up like this. "Much better." He caterpillars a little closer, sneakily, and Jin laughs and does the same. "What time is it?"

"Morning," Jin says simply. He's tugging at the blanket so it doesn't fall like a barrier between them, probably also sneakily; definitely also failing at it.

"Do we need to watch the time?" Kame asks. They only talked about Kame last night… only cared about Kame… Kame thinks of Jin washing him and god, he feels his face get hot… but he wouldn't trade it in for anything either. "Do you need to be somewhere?"

"No." Jin smiles again. Under the blanket two fingers are marching up Kame's outer thigh all the way to his waist, and then Jin's hand slides onto his stomach as Jin moves close enough to stop the maneuvering. Has sneaked their way together. "Today's my day off, remember?"

Oh, right. That's… that's great. He can make Jin a nice breakfast.

Jin's hand is on his belly, just resting, his toes touching Kame's feet. "I can do whatever I want."

"Like stare at my hair?"

Jin grins evilly, poking him in the side. "Exactly." Then he runs his hand up to Kame's shoulder, unexpectedly, and cards two fingers through the strands, light and curious; they only catch a little on the mess. "I love it, actually," Jin says, very softly. "Your crazy hair."

Kame says nothing. Just… stays. Lets Jin focus on his hair. Doesn't even blink.

"What colour is the cook going to have?" Jin asks finally.

God, it's wonderful they don't have to get up. Can just lie here and chat about hair. "I'll find out next week," Kame says. "He's a serious person in the service industry, so I might get lucky, stick with this colour." He knows Jin likes it. "At least I doubt they'll make me dye it blond."

"The prosecutor hair was also quite nice," Jin considers. Dark brown, Kame remembers.

He nods. "Could be something like that." He grins at Jin. "I'll send you an e-mail as soon as I know."

Everything cook-related is on hold until this week is over; until the samurai movie has premiered and the bulk of the promotion is over. He was so lucky to have Jin here last night.

"I haven't told you about this new thing yet," he says with a pleased smile. "I've been asked to do a campaign for a designer company. Their suits line." He has a hunch the name wouldn't mean much to Jin. "I'd be like their image model, so it would be repeat stuff. Once or twice a year, whenever they release something special."

"Mmm," Jin says. His fingers are still tangled in Kame's hair, but now they've stilled. "The thing was lying on the table when I got in yesterday. I just kind of… read it. Without thinking. And then I felt guilty and now it's hidden under your cook script."

Kame laughs. "Just as long as I find it again in time for signing it."

Jin's smile looks a little relieved, and then Jin stretches up and kisses… his temple, or maybe his hair, kind of hard to tell, but the next kiss is on his cheek, and Jin's on some sort of trajectory here.

Kame squirms a little at the one below his ear, that place can be intense if it's… but Jin calms him with a hand on his chest, and settles again, to nuzzle his shoulder and bicep a little aimlessly.

"So good not to have to get up," he says.

Yeah.

Jin has pulled the blankets up to both their shoulders, wrapping them in a little tent. It feels secret again, a morning like this when nothing happened on the night before and they just get… something different. This time they're even touching.

Jin is absorbed by his collarbones. Trying to tickle him again, perhaps. Kame's lack of responsiveness is a constant source of fascination. Kame raises an inquisitive eyebrow under Jin's teasing fingertips and Jin giggles.

"This is great," he says.

Kame grabs Jin's hand and mock-bites those fingertips. "Very. Next time we should set the alarm extra early so we can do this on a normal morning too."

Jin, expectedly, thumps him on the shoulder, then covers it with the blanket again, and it's Kame's turn to laugh.

He's hard, a little; he hopes Jin won't notice. It's just normal, not like Jin is doing anything seductive. Just the mood and the warmth, the way Jin feels to his skin when he's just woken up.

Jin shuffles closer, to soothe his horrible assault on Kame's shoulder with another kiss. Kame considers crossing his legs just so… it's the morning, and Jin shouldn't even have to think about these things.

But Jin's already stilled, just briefly before gently rocking against the offending body part.

"Sorry," Kame says. "Just ignore?" he adds hopefully.

Of course Jin lifts the cover to completely not-ignore.

"Is this a real one," he enquires, "or just a morning woody?"

Kame laughs. "I'm in bed with you, dummy, what do you think it is?"

"Hmm." Jin tilts his head thoughtfully, and Kame feels the mood slipping away, and he doesn't want _that_ , he wants _this_ …

"No. Jin. I didn't mean that. Not like that. This was just nice, it does that when things are nice."

Jin smiles a little bit. His hands are still warm and sure, settling on Kame's waist. "Nice is good," he says, a little drifty-sounding. "I like nice."

"Yeah, me too," Kame says, with the weirdest urge to just pull Jin to him and never let go, not for sex or breakfast or stupid lunch meetings. Instead he brushes hair out of Jin's face that didn't need brushing, and smiles.

Jin looks at him just as intently, and then pushes against him, down below where Kame is trying to ignore things.

"Jin. Really. You don't have to make up for my schedule yesterday."

"I know. I'm not." There's one more of the little thrusts; cautious and sweet, and Jin is only sort of smiling, half-tickling Kame's side now. Distractedly. Then he meets Kame's eyes. "Can we?" he asks, not taking his hands away. "I'd like to."

Kame blinks. He's… they've… Jin's always so keen Kame gets what he needs… But Jin is biting his lip, hiding another grin. "I can do what I want," he reminds Kame, and yeah. It's his day off.

He doesn't think, just pulls Jin in, for a very improvised kiss it turns out, and Jin is laughing against his mouth and pushing their hips more snugly together.

"See?" he points out. "I've got one too. Still a little one, so we have to make it grow."

Kame ends up laughing helplessly, shaking more than he's doing anything constructive; it's Jin who gets a little shallow rhythm going for them, and that fits too, Kame thinks, Jin wants him too.

He doesn't know why he's so thrown, when he's always known… always told himself… always made _sure_ that Jin could like it too.

Jin's slowing. Looking at him with sudden uncertainty. "Is this okay with you?"

And that brings Kame to his senses. The right ones, he hopes, but he can only hope, he's got to trust Jin on this. "Yes. You have no idea how okay. Just…" He needs to get— his stupid arm is in the way, but with some twisting he gets there, gets them half embraced, with enough room for a couple of hands to get fancy where it's most needed.

Jin nibbles at his lower lip, and even that… there's something stealthy about it. "Hi," he says when he's let go.

"What do you want?" Kame says. "What would you like?"

"Hmm," Jin says again. "Just… this? More?"

More is closer. That works, that's… appreciated, and Kame likes it too, all slow and sort of aimless. And slow is good, is for… for enjoying, for savouring. For waiting, letting Jin take what he wants.

Jin _wants_ things. From him.

It's a kind of turn-on he doesn't even remember. He wants to pull the blanket up and hide this all away.

Only it's getting quite warm. The things Jin wants include soft little kisses, and Kame's hands in his hair, their hips pressed together without urgency.

Jin gives a happy little hum. Kame could say all sort of things, all those things about how good Jin feels or how much he likes this, but at some point he gets his brain to stop spinning and come to rest in the present, one kiss at a time, one little shiver.

"I note some growth?" he says when he feels up to being funny, wriggling his hips.

Jin makes a serious face. "I think our efforts are not in vain," he concludes, and starts nuzzling his neck, and Kame lets go of all his clever answers, is drifting into the sensation, when there's a sudden loud beep behind Jin.

Jin jumps, losing balance and rolling on his back. Shit, the alarm.

"Is it that late? Do you have to go?" He sounds quite sad.

It's nine.

"Oh god," Kame realizes, randomly patting Jin where he can reach him. "That's from two days ago, that… oh god that must have been beeping half the morning yesterday."

"Well, turn it off!"

"It's on your side!"

Jin props himself up on his elbows in a way that looks like he'd rather be hiding under the cover. "But how—"

"Just hit it. On the top. There's a button."

Jin grins as he turns for the nightstand. "You are pushy," he says, hitting the thing and hitting it again when it doesn't work, "when you're horny in the morning."

As a comment, Kame gives him a little push that makes him drop on his stomach, and Jin's still laughing as he fumbles for the right button. At last the beeping stops. Jin drops his head in relief.

Kame really likes his shoulders. And his back, and the nape of his neck, and the way his hair falls like that…"That was competent," he remarks, shifting until he covers Jin halfway and kisses him right below his neck.

"Hey!" Jin protests. "That was your— Mmmm."

Kame opens his mouth a little more, swirls his tongue around. "I meant shared competence," he offers with a cooling breath of air.

Jin is shaking a little. Laughing. "Sharing's okay," he says. "I'm all for… good team work."

Kame stretches to bring the kisses up to Jin's hairline. "Are you ticklish there?"

Jin's head drops a little heavier into the pillow. "Hmm, where?"

Kame nuzzles his way along, little licks he can feel in the way Jin squirms under him. "Here."

"Hmmm… where?"

Kame bites him, and he can feel Jin laughing quietly. "N— not ticklish as such," Jin says, a little breathless.

Kame tries another nibble just below the first one. "Would that be in a good way…" And another one, lower down. "…or in a bad way?" His skin is tingling from Jin's tiny movements, the little shifts and starts under him which aren't about Kame's hard-on, aren't for anyone but himself.

"In… a way I could get used to," Jin decides. There's a smile in his voice. "With sufficient practice…" He trails off in a contented little hum again.

"I could practice… over here…" Kame leaves the biting and lets his mouth go soft and Jin stops joking, just relaxes.

He feels so smooth, and smells warm and familiar; and he looks gorgeous, Kame rarely gets a chance to see him like this. And when Jin's legs spread a little it's just so Kame has more room to balance and move; just so he can get more from Kame, more long slow kisses that make him all slack and happy. No trying to please, just taking, just because…

He likes it when Kame nuzzles along the bottom of his shoulderblades, pushing soft skin against the edges of bone, but he likes it even better when Kame's mouth traces the bumps in his spine one by one, warming them up and cooling them with a breath. Kame's moving down as needed, though eventually he should watch that he doesn't fall off the end of the bed. Just as well he bought a big one.

His soft sheets are starting to chafe a bit against his dick, and he knows what that means; of course, when there's a sharp little twitch every time Jin squirms drowsily into his touch… Jin's stopped talking long ago but his little hums and breaths say that Kame is doing things right here, his slack heavy limbs are just inviting him to continue.

A bit like a cat, Kame thinks, though Jin wouldn't like hearing that. A happy cat who might just be about to fall asleep.

Kame smiles into a kiss. It's nice Jin won't bite.

He shifts down again, running one hand smoothly, slowly down Jin's side, slipping it under a little until Jin's hipbone stops him. Jin twitches, and Kame remembers that it's tickly there; keeps his fingers very still while kissing wet distraction where Jin's ribs stop.

He wonders if Jin is hard, too. But if Jin wanted him to do anything about it, he'd say so. He's sure of that, and that's wonderful.

He shifts lower still as he works his way down into the dip in Jin's spine, and back up on the other side, Jin's buttocks smooth and firm, brushing against his chin. Jin's purring happily and Kame finishes up on his tailbone, and he wonders, for a moment, and he licks on a little, beyond the edge, and on down a little more, and Jin goes quite, quite still.

Kame stays where he is, just laps there slowly one more time, a little inoffensive circle.

And Jin's whole body… easing up, his legs falling wider apart, permission or invitation or both, and Kame doesn't even give himself time to think that he has no idea what he's doing.

It's a reach, a bit, and for a moment he wonders if the tip of his tongue is tickling Jin, before he brings his hands up to help, to spread Jin open just a little so he can advance, by slow moist millimeters, swirling his way down towards the center.

Jin's making tiny movements under him, ripples of motion urging him on, and Kame feels evil for taking it slow and enjoying it that way.

When he's finally there, when he presses his tongue against wrinkled skin for the first time, Jin shudders and exhales forever.

"You are so, so crazy." It's just a whisper, but he's turned his head and when Kame squints up, he can see the smile on his face. But his eyes stay closed, and his legs part further, and Kame takes that as his cue to get a better grip and make himself more room, hold Jin open as wide as he can.

Much easier; much more room to swirl and lap, to get everything properly wet and twist the tip of his tongue down and down – and Jin is panting, and squirming, and every jab of Kame's tongue brings a little "oh", and that's… new, Jin doesn't do this, Jin's quiet. Jin's always quiet.

Only not now. Now there are gasps and gulps and hot little whimpers when Kame tries to push deeper into the heat, and Jin tries to help, to buck into his touch, and whatever Kame does is good and he wants more and maybe… maybe if he…

He brings in his fingertips, pushes in gently with two, not far, just enough to let his tongue dip down more easily, and—

Jin sobs and jerks up against him. "Oh god… oh god that…" He's moving again and Kame holds him down, open, stronger wider circles, and Jin is writhing under him and it's unbearably hot, and unbearably wonderful and Jin's voice is soft whispers and moans and…

"Please…" Jin babbles, high and choked, and suddenly Kame is coming, just like that against the sheets when he didn't… he wasn't… he's got no _time_ for this, and he breathes and continues, jittery pulses fading below and Jin squirming in his hands at every soft lick, wanting more from every tease, and Kame wonders what else he can get him to say.

It's all good, he can tell, but there are different ways of good and there's crazy good and cozy good and it's a funny thought, that he's _learning_ how to do this right for Jin and that a particular way of twisting his tongue will make him clench his fists and cant his hips and beg for more as if he's never been ashamed…

And finally one of those times, Kame lets go with one hand and slides it under and finds Jin's erection, thick and hot in his hand, and he fumbles until he's got the grip that works, his thumb just there, and then he finds a rhythm. Jin knows better than to move much and that's hot, too, to feel him trapped between Kame's hand and his tongue, to feel him shaking with helpless control, to hear him whimper and pant and gasp and finally sob when the struggle ends and he stills, and Kame catches the wetness with his hand.

Jin doesn't move. Kame gives another tentative little lap, and the noise Jin makes sounds approving and happy. But then he flops flat on the bed with a huffy breath, trapping Kame's hand underneath him.

Kame lifts away with a few fading licks, the warm curve of Jin's buttocks still under his palm. He leaves a kiss there and then rests his head for a moment. The sort of peck in the sort of place that would feel silly to him if he cared. He wants to giggle.

He can see Jin breathe, his back wide and shining with sweat. That was… a good idea. Pretty amazing.

Then Jin shifts, clumsily and not very far. "Kame?" He sounds drowsy and just a little bit questioning.

For a fleeting moment Kame wonders. If it's all okay, if he did okay. He knows, now clearer than ever before… Jin's always so careful. And Kame hopes he won't feel awkward now, about moving like that or making those sounds or being simply… amazing.

"Right here," he says, and Jin's reaching down and randomly groping around until he's found Kame's untrapped hand and twined their fingers together.

Kame smiles and gives a little squeeze. Then he remembers and gives the nearest bit of skin a nippy bite. "Kazuya."

"Kazuya," Jin repeats, smiling and a little bit lazy, like he's settling into the sounds. There's a tug on his hand. "Come up here, Kazuya." He magnanimously lifts his hips so Kame can escape.

Once he's up there he lands about as gracefully as Jin. Jin is grinning at him under very desperate hair, still flushed, sweaty wherever Kame can see. He opens his mouth but then says nothing. "Hmmm." His arm slides over Kame's side; Kame can feel he's careful with his weight.

"Hmmm?" Kame says teasingly, curling in a little.

Jin looks him up and down slowly. Two fingers are doodling something or other on Kame's back. His voice is low, almost breathless. "That was thank you."

Kame just smiles. Nothing funny is coming to him.

Jin's not moving, just that aimless little touch. Kame starts thinking about blankets and Jin's feet getting cold, then wants to laugh at himself.

Jin smiles along with him even though he's got no idea. "What about you?" he asks then. "What do you want?" He draws a little question mark on Kame's shoulder.

"Um," Kame says. "Actually." He feels a different sort of flush now, and Jin's eyes are narrowing, wondering. "I'm kind of okay, it kind of…" Was as refined as when he was thirteen. "Already happened."

Jin slants an intrigued look down that way, not that he can see much, and Kame confirms with a sheepish smile.

"Hey, I'd have helped out," Jin points out, sounding like he'd protest if he wasn't much too comfortable, and Kame laughs and tugs a strand of Jin's hair away from his eyes.

"How do you think that happened," he says, and whispers accusingly, "All your fault."

Jin blinks, and then a blush and a grin break over his face at once, and suddenly Kame is scooped up and plastered to Jin in a hug so tight he ends up holding his breath. Jin's kissing him, random and sloppy, face and mouth and throat and ears, and Kame's hands are trapped the wrong way and he's really too old to be manhandled, and he feels tingly and light all over.

He's never noticed how strong Jin is. Jin would totally win in a fight. Good thing they're not fighting. Good thing he can just hang in there and kiss the bits of Jin that become accessible.

At some point Jin lets him get his hands out but then he wraps him even tighter, burying his face in Kame's hair. "So crazy," he repeats.

*~*~*

They stay in bed as long as they can. Eventually Kame is allowed to breathe, though he's not even sure he needs to. He doesn't get tired of just lying here, feeling at ease and at home with Jin, now and then saying something sleepy about their week, their plans, that they should get a blanket. He could stay like this forever.

He can, in the real world, until about half past eleven, which his afternoon appointments insist is really the latest he can get up, especially if he's got egg plans for breakfast.

He rolls across Jin, pulls the blanket down and blows a kiss on his stomach. "I need to get up," he says. "And feed you."

Jin's stomach goes tight, a ticklish reflex, but he's smiling down. "Hmmm, food."

They didn't have any more sex. Kame wanted it again, with Jin so happy and close, but Jin was happy and _didn't_ , he could tell, and it would have felt wrong to suggest it.

"Also, shower," he adds.

Jin's smile goes deeper. "Hmmm. Shower."

"I should even manage to wash myself this time," Kame ventures.

Jin looks up at him with dark, innocent eyes. "But would you want to?"

They don't have sex in the shower either. Mostly they get in each other's way, between the touching and the poking, and Kame takes his time trying to do a good job when he washes Jin's hair. They find a spot where he can trap Jin against the wall with his kisses and not drown either of them but he resists the temptation to reach down between them, careful to keep it chaste.

Kind of, anyway. And at some point Jin's stomach gives a very pointed growl.

Kame makes eggs, coffee and toast; puts croissants in the oven and makes sure they get all the good stuff out from the fridge. Jin is in his slacks and a t-shirt, his hair just brushed back, still wet, and he only mocks Kame a little for the size of the breakfast.

"I'm eating noodles tonight," Jin sighs while pondering if he should have a second croissant. "With some friends. Hmm."

Kame nudges the basket towards him but then leaves him in peace. It's sexier if he doesn't turn into his mother.

Friends. Because it's Jin's day off.

It was a co-incidence, of course, he knows that; just circumstances and delays and he wouldn't presume… but Jin could have left, last night, before he got home or even after, or they could have showered separately this morning and had a nice breakfast together and they could be putting the last dishes away like they are now and packing up their things, and Kame could never have gotten to touch Jin.

Least of all like that.

Jin's looking at him, his zipped-up bag in his hand, an unexpected smile on his face. "What?"

Kame hopes he doesn't look as goofy happy as he feels. "I should have time on Tuesday," he says constructively. "Can we put that in the diary?"

"Sure," Jin says at once. "I'll call it in today."

Calling in.

"Maybe if I…" Kame starts, still about Tuesday until the other thing catches up with him. Just because Jin made an exception for him, it doesn't mean… there are still rules and he could still pay for a comfort. "I mean, maybe I should call anyway, about… you know, because this was the morning and all…" It's the right thing to say and he's not sure why it feels like the wrong thing.

Jin has paused with his jacket half on. Pretty still, until the movements pick up cautiously.

"No," he says. He sounds neutral, looks calm. Very slow with his jacket's zipper. "I didn't think you had to call. Unless you'd prefer that."

"No!" Too fast, but he can't help it. That phone call wouldn't be one he's keen to make, and anyway, this was… He read it right and— he feels a little tipsy. "I wouldn't prefer that at all."

Jin tries a shrug that comes out as awkward as they get. His smile is all lopsided, like it's escaping Jin's pointed calm. "Cool," he says. "You know, it's not a problem. It's my day off."

Kame nods, cool as he can, and then he kind of stops caring about cool, and Jin's still standing there with his half-on coat and his half-smile and Kame pulls him close for a kiss, they can afford another five minutes, and when they are fully dressed and have their shoes on he does it again, against the closed door and against the ticking clock, and every time Kame sighs and pulls back he changes his mind, and Jin laughs and doesn't mind at all.

~

 _Chapter 46 to follow 19/01/2012_


	46. Chapter 46

### Saturday 07 March

"You look way too happy for a Saturday work thing." Morioka slides the sweetener towards Kame's cup full of the disgusting black brew they're being served today. They've speculated it's an attempt to prevent overlong discussions. "Are we in the same meeting?"

"It's a good project," Kame says with a little smile. "I'm excited."

"Yay work," Morioka grins.

It's true, though. It's so much fun, working with people he truly clicks with. He's thought about being more careful, about finding a right sort of distance that would not offend. Now here they are, getting their coffees together from the little plastic table with a blue easy-wipe cover and sharing a knowing glance about the limp mayonnaise-infested sandwiches.

And blocking the way; behind them director Funabashi is talking about modern cinema and the death of the artist. Kame made the mistake of getting roped into that one once already.

They step back carefully. Even the paper cups are thin and crappy and Kame has to watch he doesn't burn his fingers. They end up at the window spot, and the weather is sunny, the sky so clear Kame can almost taste the air in here. A great day for getting things done.

Morioka frowns dramatically into his cup. He was quiet in the meeting; Kame thought he cut himself off a few times when he had more to say about his character. But out here he's open, approachable as ever. "Have you considered negotiating for an intern to bring you coffee from the place next door?"

"I don't know if that's how I want to use up all my pull."

They both take a sip; Morioka makes a pinched face. "Just saying, man…"

"Okay, point taken." They grin at each other.

Morioka's amusement is turning quiet again as he swirls his coffee around. "At least I hope you haven't used up all your pull on me…"

Kame raises an eyebrow. That better be a joke; he thought they'd cleared that up. "You think I can't manage you and a coffee girl?"

Morioka laughs. It feels good to hear. "Our mutual friend Matsura-chan gave me a call after she didn't get it, wanting to commiserate. She seemed under the impression you don't properly appreciate her. But I told her you don't like me either."

Now Kame has to laugh. This should be a weirder conversation, somehow more difficult. "I swear I didn't say a word about her. She managed that all by herself. – Just like you did," he adds, very simply, since it seems to require saying again. "I did point that out, but that was all."

Morioka weighs that information. It seems to answer his doubts. "Thanks," he says.

Kame toasts him with the crappy paper cup. Then it's almost time to file back into the room and talk more about lobsters.

It is a great project, Kame thinks, and as he watches Morioka chat with the female lead and his future fictional sister, Kame is glad he didn't let old worries ruin it for him. Now that he's taking Jin to parties, his freak-out there does seem a little silly in comparison.

He wants to take Jin to more parties; safe ones. Drive home with him and go to sleep with him and take mornings off work.

Well, okay, first he has to _do_ the work. He smiles at the director and is all ears and attention.

Two days ago he woke up with Jin. Two days ago, and he can't stop thinking about it. Two days ago they were just like normal people.

Kame doesn't care about the money. He knows Jin does; Jin would have to, to stay in that job. But Jin cares about other things too. He cares about Kame. Or they wouldn't have done that, it wouldn't feel so special and perfect, and if Kame keeps this up he's going to turn bright red remembering while he's meant to be focusing on the question of cooking lessons.

"I think it would be very useful if I looked like I know what I'm doing in an industrial kitchen," he says quite firmly, and just smiles when the director worries about his schedule.

He'll find time for Jin, and he'll also find time to do his job right. Maybe they can teach him some special Italian recipes.

He tries not to get too sidetracked, but while they're discussing the kind of make-up the lobsters should wear or something, he finds himself doodling on his script and thinking of Jin squeezing the breath out of him like he's not even a client.

He listens with half an ear while Morioka and Iitaka hash out the over- and undertones of their relationship. They've picked Iitaka well – powerfully built, old enough to carry authority; a formidable presence for Morioka's character to go up against, a great third in their triangle.

"Of course you're not going up against him," Funabashi says. "You can't."

"I don't think I hate him," Morioka says, more confidently than before. Good. "I think he's probably been nice to me before I decided to quit."

Iitaka laughs. "I think I might still quite like you too."

"But…" Morioka turns a sheet of his notebook. "I hate what you are. And that you keep bringing that into my new life."

"But you want to please him too," Funabashi says eagerly. "Because his money is the key to your freedom. That's the beauty of it."

Kame blinks a couple of times because that, there, just sounded wrong. Like a different story, and not one Kame wants to think about.

That's what he gets for not concentrating, for having clients and escorts on half his brain.

Iitaka is a pretty normal age for a client. Big but not fat, better looking than most of the old ones. That would just make him more popular. Not that an escort can be that choosy about whom he pleases. It's just lucky, Kame guesses, if it turns out to be an attractive guy, or a nice guy, somebody like Yamatani or Yokoyama…

He's got to stop this, right now.

Morioka and Iitaka have ended up wondering whether Iitaka is going to be dead by the end of the drama. None of them have seen the second half of the scripts.

They're pretty sure neither Kame nor Morioka will die. Kame suspects they'll end up working together. The cook has to play nice too, for now, for what he wants. The whole drama is built on who needs to please whom and why, and to what end.

Jin needs money. To survive. For rent. For later. This career gets him the money he needs, and Kame cannot resent that. Cannot resent that Jin has nice clients, like Yokoyama that walking chaos theory, and Jin knew that he knew and was just so calm, did nothing… He can't resent that. He's seen what the other kind do to him.

Funabashi is talking himself into a state about the intricate bonds of obligation and public face and lies turning true, truths stretching thin.

It makes for nice drama when it's not real.

Jin isn't in it for the enjoyment of being with clients; Kame knows that, and he should be ashamed of himself for being glad for that. And he is, and still he can't help twisting the thought around and around in his mind, whenever he thinks of those men; that he knows what they did two days ago was different, and new, and he can be pretty sure Jin does that with nobody else.

"I sure make you work for that money," Iitaka says, playing with the second script with his thick fingers and Kame finds him disgusting, just for a moment. Until he remembers Iitaka is a nice guy who told him about his two daughters at university and his sickly ancient dog.

It was Jin's day off. That beats all the paid-for niceness for all those other guys, guys he will stop thinking about right about now. And nobody else does that for Jin, either, it was new and surprising and if anybody did, Jin wouldn't let go like this. He's pretty sure.

He can still feel Jin's strength when he stares at a white fleck of nothing. A little warm shiver running down his spine, memory of the water and Jin holding him, taking care of him in the shower.

When he looks up to give his opinion on the romance, he's smiling again, and he feels ready to be constructive.

This is still a good day.

*~*~*

Every time Kame lifts a stone, he sits back for a moment, watches earthworms, woodlice and centipedes slither out of the sun. He's glad he's wearing gloves.

It's Saturday, his wife is at work, and he's planting her flowerbeds. Somehow he likes the ring of that.

A few weeks ago, he might have gone to the club. For coffee. A few fun, harmless hours, and be home in time for dinner. But that was foolish anyway; he knows now for sure. He's better off not being too wistful.

He digs carefully and slowly. Midori taught him that, "so the worms have time to get away," and he's in no hurry.

He's pleased with himself for remembering; the poor bulbs have been languishing in the shed for weeks, and Midori felt horribly guilty this morning when she realized she wouldn't get around to it for another weekend.

It's refreshing to be out in the sun like that… there's already some power in it, and he can see the buds starting to fill on the little cherry tree by the pond.

His jeans are old ones, black Dolce & Gabbana with genuine frays at the hems. In his head he's explaining to Jin how he's not being wasteful, he really couldn't wear those on any official occasion and even film stars have to wear something in the garden, and it makes him smile. Jin would be understanding about the impossibility of naked gardening. Or he'd try to sneak his hands under Kame's clothes.

Now if he could only remember where the Dahlias were supposed to go.

He sits back on his calves and stares at the Lilies of the Valley as if they could tell him.

Well, they'll probably need to grow a bit to make intelligent conversation. He claps the worst of the dirt off his gloves, then takes them off and gets his phone out.

"Don't get her if she's in something important," he says to the secretary, and then spends three minutes on hold before Midori is on the line.

"Hi! How are you? How was your meeting?"

"It was okay," he says. "Only took three hours, I was back here just after lunchtime."

"That's great. You almost get a whole weekend to relax!"

He grins. "Unlike my hard-working wife."

"Oh god, don't start. You know I love this project, but if I have to eat one more bento dinner…" She sounds way too upbeat to mean it, though. Her agency signed a big contract last week, and she's been understandably proud of the part she had in the team.

"You think it's going to be that late again?" It really wouldn't be fair.

"Not if I have anything to do with it. I think right now I've got everybody nicely motivated to get out of here by five."

"I could cook something for you." He's barely said it when it seems… weird, like an echo, a wrong one; but he likes cooking, he always has. He won't make it Italian.

"Hmm, that sounds like a wonderful idea." He can hear her smile through the line. "Just make sure it's something that can be heated up. You know, in case."

He promises to keep that in mind, and then he remembers what he called for in the first place.

"I don't want to get in trouble with your boss for distracting you," he says, which earns him a snort. "I was just wondering where you wanted the Dahlias."

"What, you're _gardening_?"

He laughs again, blinking up into the sky. "I'm doing my best to be nice to the worms. The Lilies of the Valley are already in and not dead yet."

"Oh, thank you," Midori sighs. "I was feeling so guilty…"

"Yes, I know."

"The others aren't as urgent yet, though."

"Yeah, but hey, I'm dirty already. I might as well."

"Well," Midori says fondly, "I thought somewhere around the back left corner would be nice, but I'm sure anything you come up with will be fine."

"I'd really rather get it right."

"Of course," she says, in her very serious voice. "I understand. If you can put them equidistant between the birdbath and the trellis with the clematis… there should be a mathematical formula that will tell you the correct intervals—" She cracks up.

"Not funny," Kame says, but he has to laugh, too.

"Just… do your best, okay?"

"Because trying is what counts. Just remember what you said when your garden gets taken over by rampaging Dahlias."

"I promise," she says, and they ring off.

Kame resists the temptation to get measuring tape to figure out how best to arrange thirty-six Dahlia corms in a space which… no, he's really not going to measure, no way.

It's peaceful work, digging up the soil and putting in bulbs one by one, pressing them down gently. At the patch where he planted the Lilies of the Valley earlier, two starlings are now hopping about, pecking hopefully at the loose earth in the hope of finding crawly dinner.

Next to his current patch, daffodils are out in faintly scented bunches. He likes the strong yellow at this time of year, insisting that warmth isn't far off now, that the cold is finally coming to an end.

Jin should like daffodils. But Kame has no idea whether he does. He could try it out, of course, but that would probably just be weird, flowers are… If he weren't a client… then he could, he thinks. Not that clients give anybody daffodils. It's just…

It's complicated.

Everything's complicated, and it's weird how he doesn't seem to have noticed how it got that way.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when the phone rings. The birds fly away with offended cries. The screen says it's Midori.

"Hi," he says, smiling once his heart has calmed down. "Bento dinner after all?"

"Hmm, they're working on it," she says cheerfully. "Sorry to interrupt you, I just wanted to tell you, you should water the Dahlias after you've put them in."

"With a bottle or should I use the hose?"

" _Not_ with the— oh, very funny, Kazuya." She does find it funny, though.

"I'll water them," he promises. "Everything okay with you?"

"Everything proceeding to hurried schedule," she sighs. They ring off quickly this time because she has to get some papers to someone for something important.

He packs his phone away and covers the next row with a soft handful of earth, and remembers.

Remembers calling Jin, over and over. With good reason; politeness and respect. Still it felt like a lifeline. He hardly hesitated. And Jin waited.

Eventually the starlings come back. Their hops are cautious and suspicious, as if Kame wasn't here first. He tries to stare them down but then laughs at himself.

He wonders if Jin plans to live in a house some day. A proper one with a garden. Or if he's too thrifty, if a little place like the one he has now will do.

He wonders whom Jin calls when he's making decorating choices.

Jin asks him what he thinks of his music. And Jin turned down good money, because it was his day off.

He shouldn't pull that one up like some sort of talisman, because he'll have to pay again, and that shouldn't even be a problem, shouldn't even _occur_ to him as a problem. It's still complicated. It still makes all the digging lighter and happier, when he thinks of Jin.

Maybe he'll tell Jin about the worms protection technique. He might even find out what Jin thinks about flowers.

He calls Midori again when he doesn't know about the colour pattern she'd like with the Freesias. He could make it up, but he's always left matters of taste around the house to her, it seemed right that way.

"Surprise me?" she suggests, but he shakes his head firmly.

"No, I just know I'm going to end up with some horrible pattern and then all your friends will make fun of me when they visit."

She likes some colour zones, not simply randomness, but she doesn't want it too neat. "I won't turn into my mother's neighbour," she pledges, and then she has to run away again and he makes scratches in the dirt for where the blue will go, and the yellow and the pink.

It would be so nice if he could call Jin like that. Ask about curtains at the apartment or whether he should redo the balcony, or whether Jin wants pork or beef for dinner. Just call him, and not have to worry about Jin finding him arrogant and intruding. Not worry about Jin being busy, being with other men, others who pay.

It turns him upside down. Takes all the happiness and clamps tight around it, like the sun's gone out, like someone stepping on the daffodils.

He grabs the shovel and there's a flutter of wings. The birds look at him weirdly from a safe distance and he frowns at them, lowers his hands. What do they think he is, crazy?

He doesn't know why it feels like this, when it never did, not even close. He doesn't know why he's reaching for his phone, because he can't keep doing this. He really can't.

It's half past three on a Saturday. Jin is probably still at home; he wouldn't go in early. Unless he's got some other… unless someone else…

He doesn't call. He shouldn't anyway. He picks up the shovel, slow so the birds don't give him looks again, and after a moment he remembers the worms. No killing anyone. Okay.

It's just a job. A job Jin needs. And one day he won't; he'll find a place of his own and forget about the club and about clients, and nobody gets to touch him unless Jin wants it.

Maybe Jin will want a little more space after all. Maybe he'll find himself a boyfriend then.

Kame digs around aimlessly, thinks of Midori and her measuring tape. He doesn't want to think about Jin's boyfriend later, when Jin doesn't need money anymore and pleases only whom he wants to please, opens up to him and gets pushy and shameless when he's in the mood. Says no when he's not.

Because he knows Jin wants out. That much, he knows. The rest…

He wipes his dirty hand over his face. Dutifully waters the Dahlias. Folds up bags, rolls up twine. At least he got something done today, isn't just sitting around moping over Jin and caramel lattes, and things being as they are.

### Sunday 08 March

"Here, hold this for a second." Tanaka hands him the blue rubber broom and darts the few meters to the shed.

Kame dutifully holds the broom. He doesn't mind holding things. He's got time. Patience. Tanaka's garden is nice in the springtime and good for overwrought nerves.

Tanaka returns with a shallow stairs-like contraption. Stairs for garden-gnome sized people. "Now the cover's off, I had better put this in," he says.

"What does it do?" Kame asks as he watches Tanaka slide the thing into the pool and fasten it to some pre-drilled holes on the edge that he's never noticed before. The softly lit water feels freakishly bright. He probably just drank too much coffee.

"Lets her get out." Tanaka swoops up Sakura, who has a suicidal habit of circling their legs while they're moving. "She'll jump in all by herself, but then it gets complicated, doesn't it?" he says, going into some sort of baby voice at the end, and the dog gives a little yap. "And now it's getting warmer, she likes to take a little bath."

Dog stairs. Kame doesn't laugh. He doesn't get to laugh at people. He clears his throat.

"She does, does she?" he says weakly.

"Yes, and then she makes a biiiig mess in the living room when she's all wet, doesn't she?"

Sakura squirms in Tanaka's hands, but stops immediately when Tanaka starts scratching her belly.

"But she's so small," Kame says. He is so lame.

"So you'd think, huh." Tanaka looks like leaving big puddles of water in the living room is some huge accomplishment.

Kame nods in vague support. Tanaka eventually puts the dog down and relieves him of the broom and chases a few stray blossoms away from the edge of the pool. Kame looks around at a garden that's even bigger than the one at the house; the white plums in bloom, the cherry a little further along than his own; the meticulously pruned boxwoods.

They end up ambling towards the weather-proof pool table, with the dog dancing in excited circles around them.

Kame sticks his hands in his pockets and looks very cool.

"So how's work?" he tries.

"Oh," Tanaka says, "the usual. Busy, but good. I've got my tour coming up in May, and I'm getting a couple brothers from the States to come across for the final shows in the Dome. It'll be dope. Just got it sorted this morning."

"That's great," Kame says. And thinks.

Tanaka draws his hand over the smooth table. More blossoms, sneaking into everything, but it's just a hint of things to come. "How's yours?"

"Fine, fine." Kame nods again. "New drama starts tomorrow. It's all looking good."

Tanaka gives him a slow look. "The one with the kid?"

"Kid?" What kid? Kame remembers eggplant.

"The good-looking one from the Chinese restaurant."

The… oh! "Morioka?" He's slow today.

"Yeah, Morioka," Tanaka says mildly. "You're not still worried, are you? I told you, nobody will care, all the girls will love you two, won't mean a thing."

"I'm not worried." _I'm just crazy._

"So that's not why you're here?" Tanaka looks thoughtful, and maybe like he's ticking a possibility off a list. And maybe his silence is a little expectant.

So now Kame talks about Morioka, rather fast. Tanaka maneuvers him back to the lawn chairs while he gives a run-down of the audition, and the meeting, and quite possibly sounds deranged when he gets into the finer points of the coffee situation.

And all along he knows he's running out of time. He's been here almost two hours, and Tanaka's been welcoming, plied him with a variety of non-alcoholic drinks, and didn't act like it was _too_ weird that Kame had nothing better to do than watch him spring-proof his garden; but at some point, he'll have to _leave_ ; and he thinks he'll need time for some explanations before that. Sitting down almost makes it worse.

"Anyway, I'm sure one of the juniors will be happy to get in coffee for everybody a couple of times a day," he says, and then, "Are your other bands going to participate in your concert, too?" Not elegant; not even intelligent, but he's beyond caring.

"What?" Tanaka says. He's throwing a squishy little rubber ball for Sakura to fetch. "No." _Now_ he looks at Kame like he's weird. "I'm all for fusion, but that would sound kinda strange."

"I don't know… you could give them a ten minute slot to do their stuff, maybe?"

"Yeah, Honey Toste in front of a rap audience, I can just see them getting ripped apart. How would you like it if a guy like me suddenly appeared in the middle of a… a… Carpenters concert or whatever that stuff is that you like?"

"Yeah," Kame says, and it's even easy to smile. "I guess. But if it was those other guys of yours…"

"That's specific," Tanaka says. "Okay, for you, I guess it has to be either JUNGLELOW or HAM-MER."

"JUNGLELOW," Kame says gratefully, while Tanaka gets up to help Sakura retrieve the ball from between two thorny branches. "How are they getting on, by the way?" he asks nonchalantly when Tanaka is sitting down again.

"They're doing great," Tanaka says with a pleased smile, and for a moment Kame wonders… "They got invitations to four different cities, never mind all the venues that now want them here. Not huge venues, but some pretty trendy ones."

"That sounds great," Kame says. Too great. Well, he doesn't say that. Holds his breath instead because Tanaka has more to say.

"They're freaking out a bit over the scheduling, poor dears. But Saku-chan has handed in her notice at work so she'll be free in two weeks. We'll be losing Kinji-kun, though, after this last run; he wants the uni job instead. Pity, but what can you do. Wife's a hippo by now."

"Yeah," Kame says, and ignores how his heart beats. "He did vocals and guitar, didn't he?"

"Yeah." Tanaka picks Sakura up and puts her on his lap, and she squirms until she can lick his face. "Misa's strong enough by herself—"

"— but it would be sad to lose the harmony…"

"…and Saku-chan's got a nice voice, but—"

"— a male voice would be a nicer contrast," Kame says, as though he's done nothing all his life but discuss the ins and outs of music. He blinks, and he could wait, but it might not get better than this. "Hey, you know what, if you wanted to replace him, we know somebody who could do that."

The delivery was just right. Light-hearted, definitely spontaneous, with a touch of wonder at the lucky coincidence. Tanaka can ask and this was all worth the wait, this was…

But Tanaka isn't asking; and when Kame finally looks at him in the spreading silence, he doesn't look curious. Kame's face is very hot.

"Are you serious?" Tanaka says, and Kame would feel better if it sounded outraged and not concerned. He wouldn't feel so embarrassed.

"Yes," he says. He'll live with embarrassed. Somehow he'd known it wouldn't be that easy, anyway. Or he'd have slipped it in easy between the first diet coke and the sprinkler tour, three hours of small talk ago. "I'm serious."

Tanaka lets go of the little dog to run both hands through his colourful buzz cut, fast and hard as if he's got fleas. "Oh man."

"He'd be good," Kame says. "You know he'd be good. You've seen him."

But Tanaka is shaking his head. "That's _so_ beside the point, the point's on the moon."

"How can that be beside—"

"Look, man, you've got to level with me." Tanaka is looking at him more warily than he's ever done. Kame feels weirdly guilty and at the same time weirdly hurt.

"Yes, of course. What?"

"This wasn't just some sudden idea, right now." It doesn't sound like a question, and Tanaka doesn't look like it's a question, but Kame shakes his head anyway.

"No."

"You came here for this."

"Yeah."

"Oh man," Tanaka says again, and closes his eyes.

Kame waits. It could still work. It's still a good idea. This is just process.

"Did he put you up to this?" Tanaka says. "Did he ask you to ask me?"

"What? No! He's got no idea. I was just thinking…" He tries to sound harmless again, cool and coincidental as this was supposed to be.

"You came up with this all by yourself."

"Yeah." He shrugs slowly. Over flowers, over cooking dinner for his wife, through half a night. "You know. Your band. They need someone. And Jin's really good. That's all."

"Well," Tanaka says. In a nice voice. An apology voice. "I appreciate your creative impulses on my behalf. But I run a whole company full of music people, Kame. And I've got singers."

But they don't sound like Jin. And they don't sleep with other men. They're not important and they've got jobs already.

"I see." He takes a deep shaking breath. It's quiet again except for swaying trees and the tinkle of Sakura's collar pendants.

The dog looks at him with a happy clueless face. Kame wishes he had a dog too. He could pet the dog and maybe not feel like this.

"Tanaka-san…"

He's got no back-up plan, he's got nothing. He should have one, should have made one. Not let his own mind be a coward whenever he got to this.

The dog stares at him and licks its nose. Tanaka's ringed fingers start to move in the fur, and when Kame meets his eyes it's not as bad, as much of a judgement as it could be.

Tanaka sighs. "Right, okay," he says, shaking his head again. "Let's pretend you don't have to drive, and you're not you, and you've had three beers. What is up with this?"

The sun's going lower in the sky. Three hours and counting. It takes forever, staring at the blades of grass. Kame wishes he did have a beer, or a refill of tea, just to have something in his hands. "He really hates it," he says.

"So he's told you that much?"

"No," Kame shakes his head. "But I know, all right? I just know."

Tanaka seems to turn that over in his head for a while. "He doesn't seem to hate it when he's with you," he says slowly.

"No." It still makes him smile, to think of that. Jin doesn't hate it with him. Jin likes him. "He doesn't." He always said he looked forward to the dates, even early, even when they didn't do what they do now.

Tanaka is playing with the dog, but watching Kame, and Kame's lost the thread again.

"Okay," Tanaka says.

There's something… "He's not trying to get me to do things for him," Kame says quickly. "I told you, he doesn't even know I'm here."

Tanaka sighs. "Okay, fine. I get that's it's not a job for everyone. I get why a guy would want out. But there are lots of jobs out there, jobs you don't need particular skills for, and they don't pay much but if he hates it as much as you say…"

"He's afraid."

"Of crap jobs?"

"Of… of losing his apartment if he gets fired or if he doesn't earn enough. Of ending up back on the street. He's said that. He's waiting."

"So he's got a plan," Tanaka says. "That's cool, good for him. So why can't he stick it out for however much longer, if he knows it's temporary?"

Kame pulls his sleeves over his hands and stares back at the lawn. "That's what he plans to do."

A few months. Another year. Maybe two. He hasn't thought about how much Jin saves, how much he makes, how many dates.

This was all supposed to go differently.

"Kame?"

Tanaka wasn't supposed to sound so gentle.

He breathes out; so slowly it hurts. "I don't want him to sleep with other men anymore."

Silence, and a low hiss and rumble, Tanaka swearing in some rap language, Sakura yipping a reply.

"Don't do this to yourself," Tanaka says at last. It sounds almost like he's the one asking a favour, not Kame. "How did…" He falls silent again, looking in Sakura's fur for words… or maybe fleas. "You were fine with Takuya. With Tatsuya. You liked them, and they're these totally amazing guys, and Jin's not even…" He shrugs.

"Not even good at it." Kame nods and smiles. "You noticed."

"Don't look like that, you are scaring me."

"Sorry," Kame says quickly, and tries to look different. Like a person governed by reason.

Tanaka is still shaking his head. "I'm not saying he's not a nice guy. He's got better taste in music than you, that's for sure. But… seriously?"

"It's not like…" Kame kicks at the rough marble with the tips of his shoes. This is so frustrating. "I don't know how it happened either. But this, it's important to me. Okay?" It's embarrassing how wobbly that last bit sounded. Embarrassing how it seems to echo when it's so quiet while Tanaka gives him another long look.

At long last, Tanaka sighs. "Right, okay. Why don't you buy him an apartment then? You're a rich guy. And setting them up with a nice place to live and throwing money at them seems to be the traditional solution here. He can go exclusive with you, stop with the other men, make you happy."

This time Kame sighs. The thought had occurred to him, sometime between the gardening and the cooking; how Jin would be safe; would always be there for him and wait for him because Kame pays the bills, and that was where it stopped.

It's not what he wants.

"That's not what he would want," he says reasonably. Maybe Jin would take it, if Kame begged enough. But it would feel wrong, the same ache with a different wrapping, no more.

"It's better than what he's _got_ , and it doesn't leave you out in the cold." Tanaka is showing a hint of impatience. "If he hates the job so much—"

"I don't want it either, okay? I don't want to be his sugardaddy, that's not what I _want_. I want— I want him to be able to decide for himself."

Tanaka leans forward and just stares. "You want him to be free? You want him out of the club and away from the confidentiality agreements, and still fuck him? And you want me to _help_?"

Kame stares back at his feet, the shadows they're casting on the terrace. It's getting late. Chilly. "Yes."

"Because that went so well for you once already?"

There's that. "It's different," he says, his voice all but gone. He knows Jin and Tanaka doesn't, and really that's all there is to say about that.

"And do you even know if he wants a music career? Do you even know if he wants to _see_ you if he has to make his money doing something standing up?"

"No, I don't. Okay? I don't know." It's the thought that comes when he doesn't care about the embarrassment, when he thinks he can make this work; comes and makes him feel helpless and afraid. "But I know he loves music." Jin is so happy, with the music. "And I want him to be able to choose."

The look he gets this time is the longest in a half-hour of long uncomfortable looks.

"Yeah," Tanaka says at the end of it. "And if he does… what are you going to do then? Last time I looked, you had a wife."

"She doesn't know about the club either."

"Boyfriend on the side no big difference?"

Kame shrugs uncomfortably. It's what he figures.

Tanaka looks like he wishes he could see right inside him, see what went wrong and how to fix it maybe. But at least he seems to have run out of objections.

"You could just… think about it?" Kame tries. He's pretty sure there were a couple of 'no's implied here and there, but asking again can't hurt. He can ask until Tanaka kicks him out. "Please?"

"JUNGLELOW would have something to say about it, too," Tanaka says sceptically. "This isn't some kind of synthetic boy band or girl band, I can't just pop a guy in there and tell them all to make nice."

Kame remembers the night of the party, Jin arguing with the little bassist and the guitarist, discussing music with his entire body. "Of course," he says. "That's all I ask," he says. "Just a try. See if something works."

Tanaka snorts. "You don't ask much." And the concerned look is back, resembling a scowl with how the trees throw shadows on them both. "Are you really sure about this?"

He's sure about _something_ , anyway. "Yeah." And Tanaka runs a whole company. If this doesn't work, maybe there's something else, somewhere.

It's getting gloomy in the garden now, shadows spreading. Midori will be home, and maybe she'll try to cook him dinner tonight. Kame's shoulders are tight and heavy; he feels like he's been in an endless sports drill.

"I should have known when you brought him to the party," Tanaka mutters under his breath, and whatever else he's leaving unspoken hangs in the air like thunder.

"Sorry," Kame says lamely. It's true, though. He goes to parties with Jin. And restaurants. And supermarkets. And maybe he was careless here or there, but Jin wasn't, and Jin doesn't put pressure on him and Jin doesn't give him grief because they can't go to the ramen shop around the corner and he doesn't call Kame a coward for protecting his livelihood.

That's why it's different already.

~

_Chapter 47 to follow 26/01/2012_


	47. Chapter 47

### Tuesday 10 March

It's a Tuesday again. It's like Tuesdays are their days, maybe.

Jin can smell the onions frying. Kame claimed he didn't need help, so he's drinking his beer while wandering around, looking at stuff. At the only picture in the apartment.

Kame's wife looks like a friendly person, he thinks. She has a nice smile. She's wearing the same type of oversized tourist shirt as Kame, and they look happy.

Last week was a Wednesday so the thing about Tuesdays is probably wrong. Kame doesn't have that kind of regular schedule, anyway.

In the picture, he's grinning like an out-of-hand teenager, and Jin smiles over his beer.

In the present, Kame is wearing a stylish black shirt even to cook, tucked neatly into slim-fitting black jeans. Kame being bossy with a pan never fails to entertain Jin. Only his focused pout is all dork, no film star.

"Hey," Jin says, sauntering back towards the counter but keeping a safe Kame cooking distance. "Those are nice pants." They're actually pretty regular pants; it's Kame who makes them look good.

Kame turns a little red. "I'm cooking," he says, biting back a smile.

"They're nice pants for cooking." Jin can be flexible. He lets his eyes wander down Kame's back, and he can tell Kame sees it, too.

"I have to watch the onions," Kame points out.

Jin shrugs, twirling his beer innocently. "Don't mind me. Watch away." He leans against the counter, and even manages to keep a straight face for about five seconds.

That's about as long as it takes for Kame to put the ladle down neatly on the little plate he got ready for ladle-resting purposes, poke Jin in the shoulder, and kiss him on the mouth. "Not mind you, right," Kame mutters.

"Your onions," Jin reminds him then, feeling helpful. He stays close enough to bug Kame by playing with his belt loops when Kame turns back to the job.

Jin's mouth is still tingling, and his stomach feels like he'll never need food. Which is kind of stupid, but it's the kind of stupid Jin has embraced. And of course he'll eat. Kame is cooking for him. That fits. Better than any fancy restaurant.

Kame adds the tomatoes, stirring to a soft sloppy sound. He frowns thoughtfully when he picks up the salt and almost ignores Jin's fiddling fingers on the seam of the jeans. Nice try.

The plate for the ladle is one of the pretty blue-rimmed ones, from the set. The one matching the towels and the napkin rings and the saltshaker.

He's wondered about the plates before, about the design of so much in here. He can't really picture Kame shopping for plates and serving bowls. Maybe it's overflow from his house… the house with the wife. Or maybe it's really all her, the stuff here.

"How's this for salt?" Kame wants to know, offering up a taste to Jin, which could be flirty if Jin weren't a little worried about his shirt as he slurps up the spoonful of hot sauce.

"A bit more," he finds. Kame nods, and Jin has to smile again at Kame's immediate focus.

He wonders if she ever comes here.

Kame's so careful, she wouldn't be able to tell that this is where… that _they_ are here, together. He should feel sorry for her, but right now he's just glad that he knows more than the nice smiling stranger in the photograph.

Kame has added some pepper, and more oregano from a freezer pack. He gives the whole thing a final stir, turns the gas to simmer and puts the lid on the pan, and then he reaches into a brown paper bag in the far corner.

"Should we have the mushroom shapes or the little houses?" he says when he turns, holding up one Italian-labelled plastic pack in each hand. He looks like the evening might be riding on Jin's choice. Jin is reminded of the girls on late night shopping TV, only Kame is cuter and he's not trying to sell Jin a watch that works a kilometer under water.

"Mushrooms?" Jin asks, getting closer to the intriguing little shapes and the even more intriguing cook.

"Yes," Kame says. "And see, this has houses…" The pack rustles gently.

"Hmm," Jin says. "Is there a swimming pool too?"

"Oh. I don't think they're that upscale…" Kame spends a considerable moment looking at the packet. Jin's starting to wonder if he means to return them with a complaint.

"It's nice, though," he says. "I like small not-so-upscale houses."

Kame blinks at him. Then he smiles. "Aren't they cute?"

"Very cute," Jin agrees. "Let's have the houses." It ought to be weirder to eat cute things, but that's never stopped Kame.

"Tanaka-san has dog stairs in his swimming pool," Kame says as he cuts open the pack, still a little red-faced, concentrating on the houses, which come in red, green and white just like the mushrooms.

"Is his dog that old?" Jin asks, trying to shake off thoughts of clients and bathtubs.

"No," Kame laughs nervously. "Just tiny."

Right. Jin grins at the folly of rich people. "Shame I didn't get to meet her," he says.

"Yeah, well, you know. With all those music people…"

Jin nods. If he had a tiny dog, he'd want to keep it safe from so many feet, too. "I really enjoyed that party."

Kame lights up as though he'd maybe been worried on that account. "Great. I'm really glad."

"Not like I didn't tell you already." Jin frowns. "Why are you so surprised?" Or whatever that is.

"I'm not," Kame says. "Sorry." He stirs the real estate into boiling water. "Still, I'm glad. Those people in the band were nice too, weren't they?"

"Yeah," Jin says. "They were so normal, I liked that." Nice, and not at all conceited, like he always thought people might get once they made it big.

"Pretty good music, too," Kame says, stirring the pasta very attentively. Jin steps closer and lets Kame feel him behind, feels Kame's warmth in turn.

"Very, very good," he agrees, watching goosebumps rise at the back of Kame's neck. "Know what else is good?"

There's a short pause, a soft little breath. "What?" Kame asks, and stops with the stirring, closing his hands over Jin's when Jin pulls him tight.

"You." Jin puts his mouth on those goosebumps, open and warm, and Kame shudders. "You're excellent."

"Oh." Kame clutches him roughly, and holds still, until Jin kisses him sloppily behind the ear and feels ripples of laughter along his body.

"Missed you," Jin whispers when Kame tilts his head so Jin can be sloppy and teasing some more, and yeah, it's been the worst and the best kind of missing, worse and lonelier than after every other date and best in all the quiet moments when his heart goes tight with how crazy they were, how perfect it was after. He wants to tackle Kame and never ever let him up again.

Kame exhales with a shiver, lax and heavy until he mumbles, "The stage management of this scene is off," tugging feebly at Jin's hips behind him. "I can't touch you…"

Oh but he's wrong. Jin breathes against his neck, with that little skip in his chest, and Kame leaning into his arms and forgetting about subduing onions, forgetting everything that's not this. Eventually Jin lets him turn, and it gets him Kame's hands tugging and sneaking under his shirt, Kame's strength, feeling how close he wants Jin. His hands are warm, and so's his mouth when it opens for Jin, and then the heat is everywhere and Jin closes his eyes. There's no part of him Kame hasn't touched.

It's nice to kiss just like he wants to; to feel Kame squirm into his hands when he lets them travel until he can grab him and pull him away from the kitchen counter, press them together just right, listen to his cute little gasp and feel him turned on through several layers of clothes. Nice to feel Kame's hands in his hair and hear Kame laugh quietly, happily.

A sputtering sound makes them jump. Water, hissing on the cooker. From the pasta.

"How long do houses take to cook?" Jin asks.

Kame is slow to peel himself out from between Jin and the counter, even though it's his pasta and his obsessive-compulsive cooking. "Hm," he says, sticking a long chopstick into the pot, and then, "Oh."

"What?" Jin asks, and tries not to be distracted by the dishevelled state of Kame's shirt.

"I think they're more… like tents."

Jin steps close, though not close enough for his hard-on. He peers over Kame's shoulder. A deformed former house slithers off the chopstick and flops back into the cloudy water.

"Oh," Jin says too. "That's… sad."

Kame stares threateningly into the pot for a moment longer. Then he sighs. "That's just bad landlording."

Jin giggles, aware of his part in the disaster. Good thing Kame is so prone to overshopping.

Kame disposes of the floppy goo and sets new water to boil. They decide mushrooms are fine, and the sauce will just have time to reduce, as Kame says philosophically. Jin keeps apologizing about the houses with his hands in Kame's pockets making Kame twitch, but it's funny how he can tell Kame is concentrating through it all.

This time there are no further incidents.

"I guess I could have set the table," Jin considers when Kame disengages himself to drain the pasta.

"I could have too," Kame objects; it must be some sort of reflex to take the blame for any hosting deficiencies. "Before you got here."

"Yes," Jin says gravely. "Where are my candles?"

Kame is biting his lip as he sets the strainer on the rim of the pot. "So sorry," he says.

Jin considers the table; considers his stomach. He leans against the counter, enjoying the view of Kame handling big heavy objects with his shirt untucked. "Wanna do what I'd do at home?"

Kame raises suspicious eyebrows, as if it were a dirty suggestion.

Jin gets two bowls out of the cupboards and tilts his head towards the couch. Yeah; Kame's grin says he's fine with that.

They fill their bowls straight from the pots. Kame has come a long way from damask tablecloths. Jin picks up his beer bottle and forks for both of them. When he's arranged himself comfortably, Kame is still standing.

"What?" Jin says, grinning up at him. "You know how to do this, right? Sitting down… eating…"

Kame gives him a long look as he sets his bowl down on the coffee table and starts to rummage in a cabinet.

When he finally turns around again with his loot, he says, "You required candles."

Just one candle, tall and white in a silver holder. Totally out of place. Jin laughs. "Thank you."

Kame puts it on with a long stainless steel lighter and looks very pleased with himself.

He keeps his feet on the ground when he sits; Jin sprawls out a bit with his back against an armrest. "Up," he says at one point, digging his toe tips under Kame's thigh and insisting, until Kame lets his feet slide under more easily, for optimal warmth. Skinny guy, should eat more pasta.

It tastes good, like all of Kame's cooking. Now and then Jin pokes him by flexing his toes, and Kame smiles. The flicker of the candle is just traceable on his face, and it's nice. Cozy.

"Are you going to the bar again on Thursday?"

"Sure," Jin says easily, and then he stops, wonders. "Why? Did you have… are you free?"

But Kame waves him off. "No, god no, I have filming running late, I'll be exhausted. I was just wondering."

"Yeah," Jin says, and he can't help it, he _is_ relieved, that would have been… complicated. "I always go. If I can."

"That family that likes you, are they still coming?"

"Sure they are," Jin says. "The youngest one turned thirteen the other week, and we got her a cake and did lots of versions of Happy Birthday for her." Jin's own had been plain rock, but the one that stuck in his head longest had been the rap one. _Yo bitch yo gettin old…_

"Sorry?" Kame says, and Jin starts.

"Uh, nothing, just some lyrics."

Kame nods, chasing some pasta determinedly. "I remember, you write your own stuff, right?"

"Hm, yeah." Jin's not keen on putting it like that. Not because writing music is uncool or because it's really as girly as his dad made it sound, he just doesn't want to sound pretentious or anything. "It's not so much writing," he shrugs. "It's trying stuff out and then sometimes it comes together."

"What I heard was really good, though," Kame says, and Jin remembers, yes, that was the first time he did that song. People are asking for it now. "Have you ever thought about doing that professionally?"

That's cute. Kame can be so sweet sometimes, and so totally unrealistic. "I really think I should stick to something more serious for later," Jin says, flexing his toes again against Kame's bony thigh to get him to smile.

"But you're very good at it."

"At songwriting? You heard one song."

"No, but. At singing. You sing really well." Kame has turned faintly pink. "Like, at the bar. You've got fans."

Jin laughs. "Everybody there's got fans." Okay, so maybe he has some especially nice ones. "And I doubt they'd pay to hear me, which is kind of relevant."

"So you _have_ thought about it."

"Yeah, sure." Jin doesn't know why Kame should look so vindicated, but whatever. "I thought about it all the time when I was a kid. I also wanted to be a soccer player." He shrugs; it's a little weird to remember. "But that's not how it works."

Kame is watching him quietly; maybe a little too quietly all a sudden. Like Jin told him magic fairies aren't real. Famous actor Kame with his pasta mushrooms and skinny bony thighs.

Jin gives him another nudge. "Except for those who really do become film stars, of course," he says softly, and this time Kame smiles, if a little sheepishly.

"Sorry," he says.

Jin rolls his eyes and shovels up the last of his pasta.

"So you never tried… you weren't maybe in a school band or anything?"

Jin doesn't laugh at him. "Not that kind of school, really."

"Sorry." Kame fidgets again. "It's just, it's a shame. You're so talented. There should have been… something."

"There wasn't."

"I guess your parents didn't really try to help you either?"

Yeah, that's funny. He's not sure if Kame is thinking of band practice or vocal coaches and dance classes, but it wouldn't have made a difference anyway. "No. I was weird enough for them, didn't need to encourage that."

"Music's not weird," Kame says quietly.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you."

Kame's eyebrows draw together in that way that always makes Jin want to reach out and smooth everything over.

He lets himself sink deeper against the couch and somehow Kame ends up following suit, pulling his feet up at last and turning towards him, but keeping Jin's tucked in warm between his body and the backrest.

"There was that one time… when my dad found my notebook with lyrics," Jin says, and Kame's just waiting, his fingers sneaking under Jin's pants, stroking softly above his socks. "We had such a fight."

Kame looks baffled. "Why?"

Yeah, Jin might have wondered himself, if he hadn't been used to the weirdest shit setting off their paranoia. "You know what it looks like, when you have a notebook with lyrics scribbled down in it?"

"No…"

"It looks like poetry. And when you're a guy like my dad and you already worry that you have a faggoty son, and then you discover your son has a book in which he writes poetry, you lose your shit so bad that the _neighbours_ go into hiding."

"Did he beat you?" Kame's eyes are dark and fierce on Jin's face, and suddenly Jin remembers that he was once afraid of Kame.

"No, he didn't," he says quickly. "Nothing like that. Just a lot of shouting and stomping and tearing of pages." It had been scary right enough, but no. "So chill," he adds, because Kame isn't showing any sign of doing so.

"What about your mother, didn't she… couldn't she have helped? Talked to him?"

Now Jin has to laugh. "Right. No. I mean, she didn't pay so much attention if I was tough enough, but she sure didn't want a gay son either. God, she _hated_ Naoki. That was a disgrace before they even caught us."

"She didn't like the two of you… hanging out?"

"Nope. Bad influence, just think of the neighbours. Well, not that she was a fan of poetry for guys, either." He shrugs again. "My dad sometimes asks after me. You know, when I call my brothers. Sometimes I do that. She never asks."

This is weird after-dinner conversation. Jin's not sure how they got here. But he likes the thoughtful little circles of Kame's fingers under his trousers. Like they smooth away the roughness of even thinking about this. His mom.

"Worry about the neighbours, huh," Kame says. He's calm, but he doesn't sound sleepy.

"Yeah, well. It was that sort of place. It would have been a big story in the neighbourhood. About how my parents didn't raise me right or something."

"That's stupid. It doesn't work that way."

Jin makes a face. "Yeah, well, tell that to the folks who live where I lived. All they know are some funny guys with handbags on TV, and everything else is just _eww_ and it's not like they ever had any reason to think about more than that."

"Yeah, but you'd think parents would care more about their kids than some nosy undereducated neighbours."

Somehow they're talking past each other. "No," Jin says. "You don't get it. My folks only know the handbag guys, too. They were probably just waiting for me to prance down to the conbini in a dress and embarrass them to death. Probably figured if I could afford it, I'd have a handbag too. It's all they know, that's what 'gay' means out there, unless you're it, and even then you're sometimes not sure."

"You weren't… you were unsure?"

"How would I know what's normal? I mean, if some guy likes handbags…" He feels guilty now; that shouldn't matter either. "I don't care, okay? But I wasn't like that, I just loved this guy, and there was nobody around, anywhere, who'd ever done that and wasn't some sort of joke, or some dirty creepy story, and it kind of sucks to be the first gay guy in your whole miserable district but of course you are, because if anybody else is there they'd never admit it."

"I guess… that would be very hard. In that kind of place."

"Yeah. But. Look at the club." Kame has stopped touching him. "I mean. There's all sorts of normal people there. And they're not like… the conbini guy who'll go broke if everyone in the neighbourhood thinks he's a pervert. You're all rich guys." He breathes out shakily; he didn't mean to go there but that's where they ended up, and it's the truth.

At the other end of the couch Kame has gone very still. Jin straightens up a little, sits up cross-legged, the slump feels weird.

"I know," Kame says, staring somewhere around Jin's collarbones. "But everyone… they're afraid too." He's swallowing, almost deliberately. "Nobody wants to be the handbag guy on TV."

Jin stares back at him, with that disconnect when something sounds funny, but isn't. "But you don't know that would happen. You didn't try. You just…" Nobody would kick Kame out of his house if he decided to be honest tomorrow.

Kame is laughing soundlessly. It's still not funny. "It's not the sort of thing where you can run an experiment… so I… I just what?" Now he meets Jin's eyes.

Jin stops. The truth… he's said the truth, and now he's with Kame, who is pale and waiting for his next word like something might break from it, and Kame knows the truth.

"Sorry," he says. When Kame just blinks, he tries a smile. "Hey, what do I know, I'm a callboy."

Kame still looks like he's thinking really hard, and slowly, and not getting anywhere. "Sorry," he says. "I don't… Do you want a drink or something? Or should we… I don't know."

Shit. Way to go, taking out his issues with the world on Kame. "Hey." He shifts to kneel; it's clumsy and off but he can reach out. Kame almost looks surprised when Jin touches his shoulder. "I'm sorry, okay? Don't go all… don't let me make you miserable."

"I'm really sorry," Kame says, looking blank at the space between their knees. "That you had such a hard time back then."

"That's not your _fault_ ," Jin says, because it wasn't, Kame couldn't have saved him from anything, and this distance is awkward and stupid but he finds Kame's hand at least, slack and a little cold, and he's stroking it, glad that Kame is letting him. Gladder when there's a little press back.

"And I know what we're— what I'm doing isn't helping," Kame says doggedly. "I know that."

Jin tugs a little; not that they can get far without rearranging themselves. "I'm sorry this went like this, okay? But hey, we had a disagreement. I'm told that happens?"

Kame's not seeing the humour yet, but at least he looks less adrift.

"Can you stop sitting there like that?" Jin tries.

Kame ponders that, with long thoughts of some kind. "How should I sit?"

"Differently," Jin says, nudging at Kame's legs. Not so out of reach. He doesn't say that, but somehow Kame makes room for him anyway, lets Jin put an arm around him until they're both leaning more comfortably, close together, not so much in each other's way. Kame's shorter than him. Wouldn't need to do much to lean his head on Jin's shoulder. Not much at all.

"It is important," Kame says quietly, down to where their hands are still clasped. "It doesn't matter to me that you're a callboy. I mean, like… not like you said, I don't think you don't know stuff. You do know stuff, it doesn't matter what you are."

Jin pulls him a little tighter. "Yeah," he says. "It's fine."

He hears a long strained exhalation. Slowly, the tension in Kame's body starts to ease.

"Those were tasty mushrooms," Jin says, and Kame nods.

"Yeah."

"Even tastier sauce," Jin adds, and he can tell Kame isn't with it when Kame just nods and agrees, doesn't say how it was just a simple little thing, totally easy to whip up, and if Jin wants he'll teach him how to do it too.

"Hey," he says again, softly as he can, to another long breath, and maybe talking isn't working so well for them right now.

It's easy, Kame's right there; easy to kiss him, lightly on the temple. Kame starts a bit the first time but he holds tamely still for the next one, and when Jin leaves his lips just a little longer, a little more meaningful, he shows Jin a small smile.

Doesn't say anything, but good, if Kame agrees about the talking. Jin tilts his head up, to leave the same sort of lingering kiss on Kame's cheek, turns his touch into an embrace and there's a tell-tale tension in Kame's back, Kame is… paying attention.

Good.

"I really wanted to see you," Jin says close by Kame's ear. With Kame's stiff hesitation Jin thinks he might just need the reminder. "I missed touching you." He feels a suppressed little shudder.

Kame's hand is… on his knee of all places, and like Kame's uncertain what to do with it, but it'll be okay, they can turn uncertain into a nice thing too. Jin can totally do that.

He's still slow, kissing the corner of Kame's mouth and Kame's doing nothing, just wanting, Jin knows the signs, until he almost turns into the kiss and there's a halt, and Kame says, "Did you really?"

Jin kisses him lightly on the lips. "Of course."

Kame's mouth moves against his, belatedly like Jin wasn't supposed to stop. So he doesn't, and Kame opens up for a teasing flick of his tongue, and then Jin makes it soft and sweet, the best that he knows.

"I missed all sorts of things," he mumbles, sneaking his hand under Kame's still messy shirt. "Like this." Kame shifts under the touch, still controlled, but Jin knows that control too. He pulls Kame tighter and puts his mouth on Kame's neck, Kame's always liked his mouth. "Or this." There's sharp cut-off breath, Kame starting to press against him, and Jin thinks they need to decide which way they're going soon, when Kame pulls back and looks at him.

"Hey," Jin smiles. "How you doing?"

Kame looks at him, a little flushed and a little quiet, touching Jin's skin at last with his fingers on the edge of Jin's collar. His eyes are so dark, but… finally, he smiles. "I really missed you a lot."

Jin bites his lip not to grin, and then Kame's hand goes tight in his shirt and Kame's mouth is on his, with heat and without hesitation. He spreads Jin out on the soft comfy leather, mumbling how much he's thought of him, covers him with his body and whispers how he's missed talking to him, and Jin arches into the hot breaths against his skin and everything is good.

 

### Friday 13 March

Kame stares at the ceiling. It's becoming more distinct every time he opens his eyes. Every time he admits he's not going to sleep on this side either. He rolls on his back. And stares. The bed is too big and too empty and it's Friday.

He can sleep alone. He can always sleep alone, so it's not that. It would be pathetic, if it were that.

He closes his eyes again, turns under a cover that traps him with its cool damp. It's too early, and there's nothing to do, nobody to watch, or wait for. Jin was at the bar. Thursdays aren't for Kame.

He sees Jin in a scruffy t-shirt, smells the smoke and beer around him, there's music and friends, places he can't go. Thursdays are for people who don't lie, and it wakes him up again.

The ceiling is a bland shade of grey.

He kicks the cover off himself and it lands on the floor. He hears the click of the heating turning on. He might as well get up.

His phone says Jin hasn't called, and it's a quarter to six. He's always been an early riser.

He doesn't know why he didn't sleep. If he'd slept better he wouldn't have noticed how lonely it was. Once he's woken up he'll be okay, because it's not unusual for him to sleep alone, and he's stopped thinking about their fight. Jin said it: they had a disagreement, it happens. They had a disagreement and then they had sex. Also happens.

He has no appointments until lunchtime and maybe Jin would have come, after midnight, after the friends. Kame could have paid for a taxi.

If he had dared to call and ask.

He makes coffee; spills the first spoonful but then he concentrates. He needs to wake up. Maybe he'll call Jin at noon, just to check that things are okay. While the coffee bubbles through, he opens the blinds. It's a clear day, still grey with dawn but promising blue. The cherry blossom front is going to reach Tokyo soon. He smiles. Just too late for the samurai to pose under them. What a pity. He could have given Jin a photo, their private little joke. Though even that…

They disagreed even then; and then Kame ignored it, too, was happy to move on. And Jin let him, Jin pretends it doesn't matter, but…

They should talk, again. Talk and not have sex, and he still needs to find out about Jin's views about a music career, too, without getting sidetracked like last time. Maybe he should write himself an agenda for their next night.

The thought cheers him up. And it's a fine day and so early, the streets will still be quiet. He'll go for a run, wake up, feel more at home in his body and not like he's a dozen misconnected pieces with a barely functional brain in the middle. And _then_ they can talk.

He takes a sip of the coffee, slips into sweatpants and a hooded top, takes another sip and gets his shoes on. Keychain wallet goes in his pocket, and then he's outside, and the first lungful of fresh air makes him feel better already.

He starts slow. Not much time to train lately, and he's not ambitious here. The steady tap of his feet makes a rhythm, and his head gets clearer every meter, nothing there but breathing, and fleeting good thoughts of Jin.

He's nearly alone. The people who sleep miss out, the neighbourhood so quiet. What few cars there are won't care about him.

He passes the warehouses and the large, mostly dark housing block, the conbini at the corner. Another block down, and left is the subway stop Jin uses, and maybe one day Jin will have a car, there's enough parking in the building. He slips past the candy machine sticking out at the newspaper stand, and then there's his name, screaming red ink again and 'truth' and 'secret' and a fuzzy blurry picture, and he stops.

Everything stops.

Kamenashi Kazuya. What Are His Secrets. What Is His True Nature. Kamenashi, 26, married, Tokyo Sports has found out, secret meetings with menconnections sex for favours sex what fans know _lies_ more to come and there is a man in the picture and Kame does not know, does not remember, when _was_ this, who is it, and here it is. Here it all is.

He looks around the street, empty, grey— empty, cars that don't stop, the man who sells the newspapers in his hidden little cave of sweets and news and _lies_ , and Kame is Kamenashi Kazuya and he's in the papers and there's a picture.

The man looks at him with dead bored hateful eyes and everybody knows, he told everybody, he told the world.

Midori and his agent and the world, the fans. There's nobody left now.

But he can't do this here, he can't panic. He must pretend it doesn't concern him. Pretend it's not him. Stop staring, he thinks, as the man opens his mouth. Get away, be safe. He turns slowly, aware of every movement. It's not him, he's just a guy out for a walk. A walk, not a jog, if he runs… he can't run.

Walk, take the back streets, it's not much of a detour. Get home before the world heads for the subway, buys papers, reads about him while it goes to work.

He can breathe better as he gets further away from the stall. There's rhythm again, strict taps from his sneakers, and every tap is a word, pulsing and blurring in his mind, one of those, they're always the same.

He should have bought a copy.

He'll need to have answers. When they sit him down and ask him what's wrong with him, what else, what more, and if he knows how short a career can be.

He should have fucking bought a copy.

He walks. There's a machine, on a corner down a narrow back alley. He can get a copy there. Nobody will see him there.

Everyone can see him now. He told them all.

There is the machine. At least Kame knows where he is, he knows _something_. He fiddles out the money, clumsy fingers, and then he's got his own name and the blurry picture. No matter how he folds it some part of it is on the outside so he sticks it under his hoodie, pulls the hood up when he finally remembers it's there.

He needs to get home.

Maybe it's not bad. He has hours before his agent will wake up, but maybe it's okay, maybe it's ridiculous, last time she didn't even bother to call him.

Hours.

Just his feet, on the pavement. Truth secrets men wife more dates truth.

Maybe it's not bad. He doesn't know. A reprint, some bored editor on a bored day, digging through the archives. Or the Chinese duck incident with Morioka. Then he won't be such a fool, and Jin can laugh at him like Midori, brush his face and tell him off for being paranoid, kiss him because he knows Kame can't help it. It can be nothing, and they can be happy.

At the edge of that thought is a black gaping hole.

Nearly there. Here. His house, the apartment. The press never knew about it.

No freaking out. He needs to think. He's got hours, alone.

Entering his apartment feels weird, as if he's been away for a month and dust might have settled on the unmade bed, on the coffee which is still almost hot when he touches it. He pours it out; caffeine is the last thing he needs now.

A glass of water, some splashed in his face, and then he spreads the paper out on the dining table. It's creased and sweaty, and there's him and Morioka, and the Chinese restaurant and he almost breathes again.

But there's more. More co-stars, the samurai's teenage page, one of the students from the teacher film, his face wrinkled from where Kame clutched the paper and Kame needs time to recognize who it _is_ , oh god, before he remembers it's all lies and he slept with nobody, didn't play favours with them, did nothing with any of them except tell a frightened kid not to stick a finger in his throat all the time. _Female co-stars have no chance._ A sound-bite from Haga, yes, Kamenashi-san was very much in favour of acting with Morioka-san in the new show.

The main picture is fuzzy but it seems to be him right enough, him and another man and they are close, really much too close. Kame can't make out the features and he doesn't seem familiar, but the way they stand together…

He wouldn't let himself be caught in public like that.

It's all lies. Restaurants visits, _extravagant bills_ , they can't know about it. _Discreet boys_ Kamenashi sees, _he could get anyone but he pays for their silence_ , a concerned inside source reveals.

He has a secret love nest in Uguisudani.

 _No love hotels for Kamenashi._ He likes it romantic.

More pictures inside, the Thailand picture, Souji next to him tall in the sun, they dug it up again, and Kame on the new set with Morioka and Kame and his wife, _childless marriage_ , _very sudden after previous allegations_ , convenient for his career.

He likes it romantic.

Unofficial shots from interviews, his agent looking younger and strict, _pressure from the agency_ and Kame as a samurai, playing the romantic hero, _success built on a secret life_ and _what will his fans think about being lied to_ , the inside source did it to expose the hypocrisy, not for the money.

Worst is a picture of him asleep. Grainy cell-phone quality, just his head and naked shoulders but it's bad enough. His hair's samurai-dark, Jin liked it, and he's looking peaceful.

Love nest. With boys. He pays for their discretion. Pays their wine and their food and he likes it romantic.

An inside source reveals.

He needs to talk to Jin.

Hamaguchi will want to talk to him, she'll want to know how this could happen. Midori will be concerned. But it's only seven in the morning and they're still asleep, and he needs to talk to Jin.

The ringtone continues so long, he's starting to wonder if Jin is screening him, but finally there's an answer.

"Kame?" It sounds muffled, fuzzy, as if Jin was asleep too. "What's up?"

For a moment, Kame can't speak. I love you, he thinks, stupidly but it's there in the middle of it all, like a bad bite of food blocking his breath, his everything. Then he swallows. "Come see me at the apartment—" _the love nest in Uguisudani_ "—in an hour."

"What, wh—"

Kame hangs up, turns the phone off entirely. He doesn't want questions on the phone. No explanations or excuses. He wants to see Jin when they talk.

~

_Chapter 48 to be posted 02/02/2012_


	48. Chapter 48

### Friday 13 March

Wait.

It's what he does, he waits.

For Jin. For the world to know. For everything to be over all at once.

The blinds are drawn, shutting out the day like they can keep him safe.

He was so safe here.

He laughs, then stops because the sound scares him. He wants to run again, sweat it off, sweat everything out of his mind.

But he can't and he waits. Trapped in this room with the words burning into his brain.

He folds the paper and puts it away. Tidy is just civilized, it's not _romantic_.

Then he turns the phone on again, to see if there's a message, if Jin said 'who the hell do you think you are' or 'ha ha joke's on you' or that he has to go fuck some other client, some other sad guy who likes it romantic. But there's nothing.

He's coming.

Or he's ignoring Kame. Rolling his eyes at him, turning back over, sleeping _fine_ because it doesn't touch him.

But no, Kame knows better. Jin's not that cool, even with lies and pretense and contracts. Jin gets touched by things. Kame knows that.

He can't breathe.

He turns the phone off again. They don't like disturbances, neither of them. Jin knows that about him. And Kame knows Jin, and he's going to know this too.

He doesn't turn on the news. One thing at a time. He can only deal with one thing at a time.

There on the couch is his jacket, where he dropped it last night; where he sat with his phone and wondered if he might at least call, hear Jin's voice, wish him luck for the singing.

_Pulling strings for his boys._

Nobody knew what it meant, not even Tanaka, Tanaka who'll be too concerned to be laughing. Nobody knew about this _thing_ that's now turning him inside out.

But he won't be played for a fool again, for whatever that's worth. So never mind.

He showers. It's just polite.

Afterwards, he does his hair.

Nothing in the apartment is out of order. Nothing that would reflect badly on him. He picks out clean trousers and a clean shirt with the ties, feels neat and respectable when he checks in the mirror. Feels the emptiness that will make him disappear if he doesn't stop thinking of more to come, stories and truths, pictures, that picture of them kissing, and he was always so careful and so alone and never meant to lie.

Shit.

But he'll deal with this. He's got to deal with this. He knows he can.

Another half hour. Each moment he stares at the clock long and lonely. But he stares, and waits. You can't be too prepared.

He'll get the truth. He'll read it on Jin's face. Piece by piece as it all falls apart, away from him and he can't _hold on_ …

Shit. Stop. Just _fucking_ stop.

Sunbeams are sneaking in past the edges of the blinds, burning in his eyes.

He gave Jin a fucking _key_.

Who does that. Who gives a key, just gives… to someone who gets paid to pretend.

But maybe that's why Jin is coming, because he knows Kame trusts him, because he thinks Kame will believe him… maybe he thinks he'll act his way through it, act innocent.

He acts so badly.

Except maybe he acted very well. All this time. All the ways they got closer, date after date and Kame was so happy, like it's some _gift_ if someone is sleepy and wordless over breakfast and oh god.

He needs to stop this before it all starts to spill, before he goes crazy. He needs to stop thinking until Jin gets here and then he can get answers to all his questions. Remind Jin who he's dealing with, remind them both.

He concentrates hard on thinking nothing; settles for thinking _that_ in the end, nothing nothing nothing, just like his life with Jin. And somehow it works, a pulse and a rhythm that doesn't allow any other thought in there, and it's not long until the buzzer goes.

He wishes so much that it wasn't like this. That it was like before, that they could smile, and kiss, and…

He won't embarrass himself. He buzzes Jin in without comment, opens the door once he hears footsteps outside.

Jin looks dishevelled, hair loose and free, sweater and jeans under his leather jacket. He's beautiful. Dressed for the naïve sort of client, the sort who gets familiar, who… believes him. Kame steps back to let him in and Jin lets the door fall shut behind him.

"I—"

"Don't talk." Sudden but imperative. No lies. He doesn't want to hear the lies.

Jin shuts his mouth; gives him a calm, searching look. He's not even afraid.

He can talk later. He can tell Kame everything.

"You can get comfortable," he says, a phrase that sounds dead now, but helpful, because Jin may have a key but there are ways this works.

Jin's not especially comfortable taking off his jacket and shoes, no. That's not a bad thing.

"Are you okay?" Jin asks as he steps up, fucking acting like—

"I said _don't talk_!"

He gets it this time. Good for him. The look's still there, more of the searching, but let him search. Nothing here to find. Kame will stay on top of this, and he's not the one with things to hide, things to confess.

He jerks his head towards the bed. "Let's go."

He keeps a close eye on Jin, stays between him and the door because surely once Jin sees where he dropped the ties…

But Jin walks tamely right up to the bed, and Kame screwed up, he's in the wrong place to see the reaction. By the time Jin looks at him again, there's nothing to see. Stupid. A waste.

"Don't just stand there, get undressed," he says roughly.

This was all such a waste.

Jin takes a breath, as if he wants to say something – protest, maybe, and Kame holds his breath because he would fucking _know_. But Jin bites his lip, that way he always did which Kame liked, and gives him a tilted kind of look, and starts to unbutton his shirt.

Once he's got it off, and is working on his pants, Kame remembers to start undressing, too. This last time, he wants to feel Jin, and they can do the things they used to do, and he'll get to keep this one because this is real now because he knew, he knows now; Jin will tell him.

His skin is cold. At odds, somehow, with the heat underneath, this burning feeling behind his eyes.

"Come on," he says, and waits. "You're not scared, are you?"

Jin looks up again from pushing down his underpants and stepping out of his socks. Takes forever to think. "Is that a real qu—"

"Shut up."

Jin lets his hands drop to his sides and waits. He's not helping. He's beautiful. Tousled like he just woke up, with Kame, and if Kame takes too long to think he can still feel it, how safe they were.

Why won't Jin ask for forgiveness?

Jin takes a breath.

"Get on the bed," Kame says, and he drops the last of his clothes, too, gets close and if Jin won't get down he can push him. Supply directions if Jin needs them, because Kame knows how this is going to go. He just doesn't know when yet.

Jin sits, and moves back. Watching him, always watching, from behind eyes that won't admit anything, as if Kame is stupid. As if all he has to do is sit there and be beautiful and it will be all right because Kame is _stupid_.

He lifts the ties off the bed. Blues and greys. He doesn't remember September's colours, so long ago. "Hope you don't mind."

Jin's eyes barely flicker to the silk in Kame's hand.

Then he shakes his head. Just once.

Does he think he's giving Kame permission? Or is this an act? Another clever show with the watchful eyes and that soft worried mouth, but he's not going to lie himself out of this. Truth. They're going for truth here. All the world wants the truth.

"Then lie down."

Jin lies down. Not fast, not slow. When Kame holds out his hand for the first wrist, he gets it, no fuss. No words. Jin watches the knot being tied and doesn't tug.

Outside the headlines are screaming his life out to the world, newscasters will chatter and make big eyes and cover their mouths in horror, people will laugh and his agent will yell; Midori…

Kame gets around the bed, and suddenly Jin's arm moves for him, his hand; stretching up. Ready. And Jin is watching, like he's the only thing not breaking here, and Kame can't look at him anymore.

He ties the knot, quick and efficient.

And then it's quiet. The air goes down, all the way into his lungs, and the world out there is one thing but this is another, and it's solid, and calm.

Jin is looking up at him, waiting.

"You should like that," Kame says as he kneels on the bed. "I really don't get why you don't."

Jin doesn't seem to get it either. Kame sits, and waits for words. For Jin to start twitching and remember, because he can't have forgotten, he can't have forgotten how this works. How well it works.

He's still feeling the calm. That's how well it works. Maybe there should be more reminders.

He moves to get between Jin's legs. Jin makes room for him easily, good little escort. He runs a hand up Jin's thigh, and for a moment he just stares at it, his touch on the pale skin, the softness on the inside. Wonders why it wasn't enough for him. The good little escorts and their pretty looks. Why he didn't fucking know better.

His head is still pulsing with shame when he finds Jin frowning. His eyes full of thoughts, full of all the things he knows.

Kame leaves his hand in a nice strong grip on tender skin. He knows a thing or two too. "Maybe I should blindfold you," he says, "maybe that would help you focus."

That, there… is a sharper kind of frown, and Kame thinks; imagines acting all alone, unable to see Jin's response or tell about the lies.

He leaves the third tie unregarded. "You like coming here, don't you," he says instead. "You like… the apartment."

He's not weak. He just wants to see.

"It's romantic. Isn't it."

He leans up. Jin's stomach dips with a long hard breath.

"You liked it," he whispers, sounding uneven but that's nerves, or Jin's nakedness. "It was _special_."

All that hard work, making Kame believe this was different and hard-earned, Jin doesn't just look at anybody like this, doesn't open up, let them close, doesn't _like_ it.

He touches Jin's hair, tries to ignore everything else. Bends his head down to kiss him, on the neck where the skin is warm and thin, it wouldn't do to let Jin do all this work, show him all the things he likes, and then not have them now. Jin would be disappointed. Kame likes it romantic.

There's warmth, and pulse, and Jin holding his breath; and his scent so familiar Kame needs to close his eyes.

Don't forget. Don't be a fool.

"But it's not enough, right," he mumbles, careful with Jin's hair, following the hurried messy strands, at least he came running straight away. "There's more."

More lies, and lessons, to teach him show him sell him, bare him to the world. Couldn't just want him. Stay with him.

He kisses his way around the collarbones, hardly feeling it. His lips are numb, the ache is elsewhere when he wants to keep this and show Jin what he's losing, show him how much Kame paid attention to everything.

There's a short tug in the ties and Kame turns his head up, immediately interested. But Jin's eyes are just dark.

Jin's nipples are hard, and soften under the warmth of Kame's tongue – he forgot to turn the heating up for him. He keeps his mouth there longer, keeps his breath hot and deep.

"That's good, right?" He says. "You like it warm. Like to be taken care of, don't you?"

He abandons Jin's chest at last, nuzzles his way down soft skin to his belly. "Like people to pay attention to what you want." A little circle of the belly button, no stud, Jin must have rushed. "Found someone who does it better now?"

He dips his tongue in, hot and hard, and Jin gives a tiny shudder.

Kame lifts his head and stares at him. " _Have you?_ "

The blindfold. Maybe he should have. Then Jin couldn't study him like this.

"Thought you didn't want me to talk."

"To answer my questions," Kame snaps. It should be obvious.

Jin's head moves slowly, softly. "No," he says. "But you know that."

Lies. It's all lies, it has to be. He's burning up, starting with his fingertips on the lying smooth skin and when he holds on hard Jin twitches.

He breathes, there are half moon shapes turning dark, fading already under his palms.

"You like it when I handle you," he says, and he's up there again, pushing Jin's head back with a fist in his hair. "When you just have to take it."

Jin is blinking fast, more lies scrambling back and forth, or maybe finally the truth.

"Good fit for you then, what you do." He waits, letting it settle, but nothing happens. Just shallow little breaths, Jin waiting with him.

He drops his head, holds Jin harder even with that aching warm scent; more kisses, he wants to feel Jin's pulse flutter under his mouth. "You like this too," he whispers. "You liked feeling me close." This at least he can still do, and Jin's body obeys him, Jin feels him and Jin _knows_ who's doing this.

"You like taking your time," he remembers even if his hands are in a rush, like they know time is up too, it's over. Teeth on the nipples, he knows what's needed, what makes them hard again.

Jin's biting his lip when he looks up, and that's another…

"And that," Kame says, but Jin's mouth stays closed, is just soft and dry under Kame's fingers. "You like that." He's tracing the memory, and it's nearly choking him. "How much did they give you?" How much, it runs around his head in blurry words, how much was he worth, and now there are thoughts in Jin's eyes, thoughts he can feel, a caress against his fingertips and Kame snatches his hand away, sits up. His skin is yearning and lonely and Jin looks like he fucking knows it, like he can run the show and make Kame _feel_ things…

Kame wipes the touch away on Jin's chest. "Couple of rests?" he speculates. "Can't have been more than that." He spreads his hands on Jin's skin, doesn't look, doesn't think. It always felt so good, always… and he hates how he loved it and he gathers the cold around himself because even that warmth is lies.

Jin is perfectly still. "And you like fucking," Kame reminds himself. The closeness, playing on a loop while Jin laughs with a reporter, stirs his coffee, says Kamenashi… "You like it _nice_. And personal." They can do that. Kame always did it well for him. "You liked looking at me."

Jin would say yes, if Kame let him. If Kame could trust anything he says. He's looking at Kame now but it's different, at least he's stopped pretending, and let him look because that's all he can do now.

His nails catch again on his way down. Thumbs pressing down into Jin's belly, his bellybutton, hands pressing in, he wants to feel and he can't get it right, it doesn't reach him where he needs it. Jin's breath halting and uncertain, his skin sweaty under Kame's fingers, red marks when he lifts a hand to touch Jin where he's limp and disinterested.

He tugs, but Jin doesn't respond, nothing responds, Jin's tense and holding himself still. Regretting he thought he could handle Kame, manipulate him while spread out on his back.

Another tug, and he stops. "I still know what you like." At last there's a shiver when he draws his nails up the inside of Jin's thigh. "Like this…" He does it again, sharper, he could play here longer if all were still good between them. Now it has to be enough, Jin twitching without moving, and Kame knows all the rest too.

He sucks two fingers in his mouth for spit, Jin's eyes on him wide and wondering but this isn't for show, Kame's not the whore, and then he's pressing up between Jin's legs and Jin moves and he pushes inside.

It's tight. Weirder than before but they know this, and for the first time Kame feels warm prickling sweat on his back, so tight, but he can almost find a rhythm. "I learned it well, right?" he says on what feels like thick air. A clingy little pull, Jin's stomach tensing, those short little breaths again. "I paid so much attention…" His voice dies on him and he gets in deep and holds, deep as he can, inside Jin.

Who's blinking, so fully with him now, and Kame does that little thrust again.

Jin's holding his breath, trying not to react, to make Kame doubt the things he knows, all the secrets he owns turning to lies, and another thrust and at last Jin's hips stir. "You love it. Might as well admit it." He's not sure what he means anymore but he means everything, and why doesn't Jin tell him the truth, why does Kame have to search and probe and how else can he touch him now and—

"You're hurting me." Jin's voice cuts clear into his thoughts. "Stop that now."

There's no air. Fireflies between Jin's face and his, and he blinks them away.

Hurting. Stop, now. Jin's telling him. He's not moving. He's hurting Jin, he…

Jin's looking at him and the fireflies are gone. Telling him. Waiting, for… he's stopped. But he's inside, he has to… he can't hurt Jin.

What the hell is he doing? What is he trying to do?

"Sorry," he croaks. "I…"

Jin nods. Kame winces as he pulls his fingers out.

"Sorry." He sits back. Naked. He's hurting Jin.

"Take these off me," Jin says, flexing his wrists in the ties.

"I'm sorry," Kame says, "I…"

Words are pointless. He can't. He can't even think. But Jin said… right. Oh god.

He stretches up, undoes the first knot and it takes forever, he even pulled it tight, and when he's finally got it done he moves for the second.

Jin's fingers curl in lightly. Stop staring. Stop…

A heavy arm comes around him and pulls him down, resistance useless; down until he's flat on top of Jin and Jin says, "You stupid brainless dick."

Kame nods. His eyes are hot. He doesn't even care. "I'm sorry," he says and it sounds high and ridiculous.

"I saw the papers." Jin's hand makes a weak fist in his hair, holds him close.

Kame nods. Not resisting anything. Jin's breath is a sigh, and he's so warm now, when Jin is always cold. This time Kame is cold, freezing, Jin's warmth making him leak all over the place. Kame squeezes his eyes shut and keeps his hands away. His hands. Oh god.

Jin's hand stays on him, is confident on his neck, his shoulder. Jin.

"Last time it was him," Kame says, so compressed Jin might not hear. "What they said…"

Jin takes a long, uneven breath. Kame doesn't want to open his eyes. "Must have been pretty scary," Jin says quietly.

The bed. The ties the room they're naked. He's been hurting Jin. Scary.

Kame snorts a laugh, and suddenly it's not a laugh any more, and he squeezes his eyes shut even more. "I'm sorry," he manages.

Jin's arm goes tighter around him. It's quiet for a while.

He's shivery. Every breath he feels sore, and Jin's still here.

Kame feels he should memorize this, just this feeling. For later. Or maybe he shouldn't think anymore.

Maybe his head is all wrong, and it'll never be all right now. What sort of person does this. Does it again. If he doesn't breathe, maybe Jin won't move, maybe he can get another moment.

His brain was so fast. Falling from one piece of crazy to the next. Now he's got no thread, no nothing. Skips and starts, ties and pictures and a lump of stale anger, something that was anger and now is just cold. Right in the middle of him.

Then Jin sighs, his chest rising with it. "You _are_ an idiot, you know."

His throat hurts, just getting air down. "I know."

Jin pats him gently, kisses him on the top of his head.

"You were so mad at me," Kame mumbles. "About the coming out thing."

It doesn't make sense. Even with that, it doesn't make sense and it's no excuse.

Jin is drawing little circles between his shoulderblades. "I wasn't, really," he says. "And, well. Anyway."

Yeah. Anyway. "Sorry."

"Idiot."

Kame nods, and when somehow he knows it won't hurt Jin now, he pulls closer. He feels steadier when his arms can do that.

After a while, Jin asks, "Have you talked to your agent?"

"No." Kame shakes his head. Jin's chest feels so soft under his cheek. "I need to call her."

"Any idea where the pictures came from?"

"No. I haven't talked to anybody." Just called Jin, went crazy on Jin. Same old story. "Just called you."

Above, he feels Jin nod. "Good."

Good. Right. Because rushing across town to be tied up and abused is just how Jin likes to spend his mornings. "I'm sorry."

Jin's laughing.

At him.

And poking his ribs, which… seems utterly strange with the interrogation and the fear and everything falling apart around them.

But all Jin says is, "I'm glad I'm here."

It seems presumptuous and somehow wrong for Kame to say how glad _he_ is while Jin's still got one hand tied to his bed, but he nods so Jin can feel it. "Yeah."

They stay for a few moments longer. It won't make any difference to whatever lies they're spinning outside, and Jin is in no rush to let him go.

"Have you even had breakfast?" he asks eventually.

Kame shakes his head. He remembers half a mug of coffee but food isn't very appealing, anyway. "No."

"Then I'll make you some. While you find stuff out."

Yeah. He's got to do that at some point.

Finally he lifts himself up, stiff and heavy as if he's been the one tied down. Jin even has to help him with the second knot, and his face is burning again, but Jin just brushes his hair back, surprises him with a kiss to his cheek, and slips away.

Bathroom. Yeah. Kame manages to drag his way to the edge of the bed.

"Here," Jin says when he comes back, dressed in his bathrobe already and holding the second one out to Kame. "You want coffee or tea?"

"Coffee," Kame says, random. "Sweet…"

"Coming right up. You go sit. Get your phone. Well, not in that order."

Kame gets his phone. Sits down with the robe tight around him. Missing Jin's warmth. The friendly swirling colours of the welcome screen have never looked more ridiculous.

"My agent called at half past eight," he says. Just twice. Maybe that's a good sign, he thinks, when it all comes rushing in on him again. The pictures, the fear, the press coming for his life. He's stopped being a jerk to Jin but it's still out there, still happening, and there's nothing he can do about it, nothing.

"Sweet's good," Jin says as he puts a mug down in front of him. That was quick. "You need some sugar."

They said there'd be more. There'll be more of this tomorrow, and he wants to be sick.

But he says, "Thank you," and has a sip, and even though his hands are shaking the taste helps, milky sweet coffee taste, and Jin sitting down with him.

His hands. He should never _touch_ Jin again.

He can't go on doing things like this. It has to stop. It has to stop now; the fear and the craziness, what it makes him do. He said different and Jin trusted him.

"Hey," Jin says.

"I should read that paper again," he says. "Before I call anybody. I have to know everything." All the details, he has to let them into his brain and live there.

Jin grimaces. "Where is it?"

"I hid it in the wardrobe. With the t-shirts."

So Jin gets it for him while Kame has more sweet coffee, with sugar which Jin says he needs.

"Where did they get that stuff?" Jin sounds utterly baffled. He points. "Those two pictures are new, right?"

Kame nods. "I don't know who that other man is. In the big one."

"Doesn't look like us," Jin agrees. "The sleeping one is… there can't be many people…"

"Yeah," Kame says voicelessly. Jin. Midori. Nobody else, recently, and it looks like a recent picture. "I can't make sense of that one."

"You don't sleep on your back like that, normally." Jin sips his own coffee thoughtfully. "They don't say where it's from either… Maybe from somewhere you forgot you were? When you were shooting, Hokkaido or something. Someone sneaked a shot?"

Maybe. Kame doesn't know. He just doesn't know. The pictures with the boys from the teacher film are nothing but you can make nothing look like anything, there's half a page of nothing, Kame leaning close over Morioka's shoulder, Kame's hand on Kobi's arm, Kame giving another student a sideways hug. Innocent stuff twisted and twisted but worst are those two front page photos, and all the rest, the right place and the biting little details… each by itself explainable, maybe, but so much of it…

"I want a cigarette," he hears himself say.

"I thought you didn't smoke."

Kame laughs. "So did I. I think I even threw them out…" Those last ones. From when he was crazy too. Wasteful. Jin would disapprove.

"I've got some," Jin says, getting up. "Wait."

He's never had a cigarette in here. Jin lights it for him, some cheap supermarket brand. "I hope you don't mind," he says belatedly, after the first deep drag. It's no miracle, but it helps.

Jin rolls his eyes. Then somehow he's got Kame's free hand warm and snug between his own. Jin's fingers are long and elegant. And warm, and all around him, and… he grips Jin back, and that helps too and he can think. Think about what he needs to do.

"You're all over the place," Jin says.

He can't do anything but nod. But Jin keeps holding on, and the nicotine is just a little soothing. He's halfway down the cigarette, watching the smoke rise and die before him, when he says, "I think I should call my wife."

Jin's thumb is stroking his knuckles, slowly, and Jin looks completely calm. "Before the agency?"

"Yeah," Kame says. "I think that's better." There's not many things he can do right, here, but this is one of them.

"I should probably call Ootomo soon," Jin says. "I have to call in the comfort, I don't need the trouble if I don't and he finds out."

What? "You didn't… you didn't tell him you were coming here?"

It's not like Kame thought about it. Not like it would have made any difference when he was… crazy, he was crazy and Jin walked in here and let him do crazy things and nobody knew where Jin even _was_?

"Seven in the morning," Jin says. "He sleeps too sometimes." But then he frowns. "Unless he's a vampire, but I hear they have better taste in clothes."

Not funny. Kame's head is spinning with how unfunny this is. "But you need to tell him," he says helplessly. "You need to take care of yourself."

Jin pushes the saucer he brought as an ashtray towards Kame. Cigarette done. Okay. Kame obediently puts it out. "Noted," Jin says.

"I'm serious."

"Yeah, I'm serious too." He starts brushing the skin on the back of Kame's hand, and suddenly he's quiet. Looking at Kame's phone. "So…"

"What?"

Jin shrugs. "With this stuff and all. Are we going to keep seeing each other? Or does that not work anymore?"

That Jin would even want to… but he's here, making him coffee and holding his hand, and maybe Kame can have the decency not to make him ask twice. "I would like that very much," he says. "The stuff… it doesn't matter. For that."

Jin nods, very tidily. "Okay, good."

It's just the familiar ache. Not what he wanted. How he wanted it. But he can't ask Jin for anything now, he doesn't deserve it. He just can't give Jin up.

"I would love it," he whispers. "I'd be really grateful."

Jin brushes his cheek and says nothing.

And there's his phone. He thinks of another cigarette; thinks of Midori getting into work and everybody looking at her; Midori sticking up for him, of course she would, when she doesn't know…

Slowly he pulls his hand away from Jin. "I should hurry… catch her before she leaves the house."

Jin nods. "I'll put on some rice," he says evenly. "But I'll be quiet."

"Okay. Thank you." He gets up, and then he wonders why. He could talk at the table.

He ends up by the balcony door, looking out into a breezy Tokyo morning. No cat. The wooden planks outside are spotless. Behind him Jin is measuring out rice.

This is it.

Midori picks up on her cell on the fourth ring. "Happy Home Cockroach Extermination Services, how may we help you?" she says, bright enough that he knows she's had her second coffee, that she's dressed and ready to go. For a moment he can't talk.

"Kazuya?"

"Hi," he says. "Good morning."

"Is everything all right? Are you okay?"

He takes a deep breath.

"Oh my god, your—"

"No," he says at last, in a hurry, "nobody's… nothing like that."

"What is going _on_?"

"There's something in the papers," he says. "About me."

Midori is quiet. He can't hear Jin either but he won't turn around. "I see," Midori says. "Is it… bad?"

He laughs, but so breathlessly she might not hear. "Yeah. It could be pretty bad."

"What is it?"

"It's about me. And men." He hasn't thought about how to summarize it, on the phone.

"What, again?" He knows that tone, can picture her rolling her eyes. "Is it because you're doing the cook drama together with Morioka-san?"

"I don't know," he admits. "But it's… more general. On the front page."

"And now you're worried again?" She's smiling; wanting to pat his head, or poke his ribs in impatience. He knows exactly what she looks like.

They slipped each other jokes on the set, back then. He always liked it when she teased him.

"It's not all lies."

She takes a breath to speak. Then doesn't. Kame stares out the window, it's silent, and there's the truth in his head and out there and he's almost feeling normal. Weird.

"Oh… okay." She has no idea; she knows it too. No idea how okay they are, or not.

"Can you please do something for me?" he says, even though it sounds terrible and wrong too.

Midori needs a moment. "What?"

"Can you not go into the office? Can you… call in sick, or something?" He hears her take another breath, and says, "I need to talk to you. I mean, we really… we have to talk. There's some things I have to tell you. But I need to go by the agency quickly to sort things out, how they'll handle things and… I'd like to talk to you. Before. Before other people do. Please?"

Please. This last time, he hopes she'll trust him.

"Okay."

"I'll probably be… it might be noon."

"Yes, okay. I'll be here."

"Thank you. And." Think. Think quickly. Not many ways he can protect her now. "You might want to stay away from the phone, too."

Now she's laughing; it sounds a bit breathless too. "That… sounds dramatic."

"Yeah," he says. "I'm really sorry."

"Drive safely," she says, and his breath comes in choppy bits but he keeps it together.

"I will. Thank you. I'll see you later."

Well. That… well.

When he slides the phone shut and breathes deeply, slowly, it's still the same air as before. Out there, Tokyo is still busy. Sunny. Sunshine on red newspaper ink.

He turns into the quiet room, and there is Jin standing by the kitchen counter. Looking at him.

The rice is in progress. Eggs and soy sauce and chopsticks are waiting on the table, and he's cleared the newspaper away. Kame makes his way back to his coffee mug, and when he puts down the phone he feels his knees are shaking. He sits down and has a sip, and then looks at Jin again, who's watching him, and there's a little orange light on the rice maker.

"Thank you," he says, nodding at it randomly.

"It'll be about three minutes," Jin says, and comes closer.

Kame nods again.

"Not all lies?"

Kame shakes his head.

Jin slides into the chair across from him. "What are you going to tell her?"

"Everything." Finally.

He's scared. And it's so quiet, until Jin makes a sound, somewhere between disbelieving and impressed.

"I'll be cautious with club details," Kame adds. "I know the rules."

Jin is still frowning. "You'll tell her the guy thing is true?"

Kame nods.

"The gay thing? The cheating?"

Kame keeps nodding. He'll tell her everything she should know.

"She'll leave you," Jin says, sounding almost certain.

"I'm going to ask for a divorce."

"But," Jin says, and snaps his mouth shut; just stares at Kame with big eyes.

"I can't keep on lying like this," Kame says. "I just… you see what I end up doing. Not just once. I can't keep doing that."

"You're going to tell _everybody_?" Now Jin's flushed, looking anxious too. "I didn't mean that, you know. Not like that…"

"No," Kame says, slowly because he's never thought of a plan for this. "Not like that. I still want… my career. But the people who matter should know. And the rest, everybody else…" He wheedled and pled and got _married_ , and all it did was make him crazy. "It's not going to be their goddamn business anymore."

It feels like picking a fight with a big ugly bully: kind of insane, and kind of exhilarating. And mostly just scary. _Be strong for your friends_. He laughs.

"Kame?"

Okay, maybe he's frightening Jin. "Sorry. Just. This is going to be… something."

Jin looks like he agrees.

They both jump when a ping announces that the rice is done.

"I'll get it," Jin says, and he's already standing and getting bowls out of Kame's cupboard. Jin knows where everything is.

"Leave mine in," Kame says. "I really need to call my agent now."

Jin puts both the bowls down, and Kame says nothing about it, because… because he really can't put this off any longer.

The phone rings out at the agency just once, and then he's got Hamaguchi on the line. Kame's heart skips a beat just on general principle.

"Where the hell were you?" She doesn't sound angry, though; she sounds smug. "You can stop worrying, the new photos are already discredited, and the rest is just a load of crap. I've put together a statement we can release—"

"Wait," Kame says. He's still catching up, and… "The photos, what about them?"

"One's clearly photoshopped. Though the paper is going 'Ooooh, we didn't knoooooow.' The other is three years old, unofficial set pictures. That drama where you never wore a shirt. We've been inundated with calls and emails from your fans, they've been hard on the case since before we even started checking. Somebody just flipped it and made it look fuzzy."

Right. He swallows. Mystery solved, the one that bothered him most, apart from… maybe it'll all fall apart like that, maybe other things are guesswork, or coincidence, and he could…

"…so do you want me to read you out the press release over the phone?" Hamaguchi is saying.

He can't. He really can't.

"I'm not going to deny everything," he says, blunt and clumsy.

"Excuse me?" Hamaguchi sounds very precise.

"All allegations concerning my co-stars, we can deny. They're lies. I refuse to comment on the rest because there is some truth in it. I can be at the agency in less than an hour to discuss it."

It's just like then, the people he works for, so disappointed in him, and what's he going to do when he can't act, he's never wanted anything else.

But she— Hamaguchi is on his side. For now. And she can't really beat him up. He swallows and remembers… that he can't. He won't.

"I think you should come in," she says. "Now."

"I'll be as fast as I can," he says. "But I have to make another phone call first, and I'm not dressed yet. Can you cancel today's appointments for me?"

"I already cancelled everything until lunchtime. We'll see about the rest."

"You should hold off on the press release."

"We'll talk." She hangs up. Presumably so he can get there faster. God, he wishes he could have a drink.

When he turns, Jin is back at the counter, the bowls in his hand. He's not moving. "You're serious."

Kame opens his mouth but his throat is too dry, his voice barely a scratch. He swallows again. "Told you," he manages.

Jin is looking him up and down, and then he shakes himself and puts rice in bowls. "Food," he says. "You forgot food in your timeline."

Food, okay. Not the same as booze, but he'll take it.

He shovels down the first half still standing. "The pictures are fake," he says. "The bad ones, anyway." Fake. Someone just made them up. It's…

"What?"

He tells Jin what his agent said, watches the confusion clear in Jin's eyes, something else settling in.

"That's good," he says slowly. "So this… it might all just go away again?"

He hurt Jin, over someone's made-up proof. Over tricks and lies. Just like that. "I don't know how far away it'll go when I leave my wife."

"But…" Jin frowns, and he seems reluctant when he says, "If it's safer if you didn't… do you really still have to?"

"I do." He can't let himself forget it just because he's scared. "Anyway, I thought you'd be the last person to object."

"But she could tell everybody. And she'll be _mad_ at you."

The rice is a thick dry lump in his mouth and he can barely swallow it. "I'm hoping she won't. Tell, I mean. But yes, she'll be mad."

She's got every right to be, just like she's got every right to know. He doesn't think he can eat any more.

Suddenly Jin is touching his arm, and Kame just wants to hug him and not let him go.

"Jin," he says, "would you be my boyfriend?" Not ever let him go. "I know I've been an asshole and a coward…"

"Yes."

"…and you've got so many reasons to be mad at me too and—"

He stops because Jin has started shaking him, nicely but insistently. "Yes, stupid, I said yes. Of course I would. I'd… I would like that."

It takes a moment. He almost didn't dare ask, and now… "Really?"

"Really." Jin smiles at him but there's something in it… something that doesn't seem quite right, and all Kame's sudden joy starts to fade.

"But…?" he says.

"You know I can't just quit my job, right?" Jin looks like Kame feels, like he got a hold of something precious and now it's slipping away. "Not yet. Not for a while."

"I guessed that," Kame says, but then thinks, no more lying. "I hadn't really thought about it."

Jin nods, once, and aligns his chopsticks on the counter. "Even with your nobody's business thing… if it came out that you're going around with a callboy…"

"I don't care," Kame says. "Not anymore."

"You do care."

"Not enough."

That gets his attention. Good, because Kame means it.

"You don't like it when I see other clients," Jin says, and there's that tight feeling again, like sandpaper around his heart.

"I'll deal," he promises

"I'll get home really late. From dates."

"I'll wait up."

Jin is silent. Suddenly half laughing, half shaking his head. "Okay, you know what, maybe we can hash out the details once you know whether you still even _have_ a job we need to worry about."

Details. Kame is grinning stupidly.

Jin shrugs, in that bad actor way he has, and tries to hide the smile that looks just as silly as Kame feels. "Hey, and if they fire you and you've spent all your money on Blu-rays, you can come live with me in my three tatami apartment, and I'll keep you clothed and fed on my super amazing savings.." Then he takes the bowl Kame was still clutching and puts it down on the counter, and then Kame gets most of the air hugged out of him.

"I'll do that," he mumbles into Jin's bathrobe. "That could be fun."

"Hmm, I don't know," Jin ponders thoughtfully. "How long you'd make it on canned tuna…" Then he giggles, and Kame laughs along even though he doesn't quite get it. Maybe the last thing he expected out of this morning.

God, it is _so_ high time he got into the agency.

"About the job… I really do have to talk to them now," he says when they're no longer laughing. Time to deal with what's waiting for him out there. "See how likely the tuna scenario is."

Jin nods. "Let's get dressed."

They do, quickly. Kame's hair takes longer - he's pretty sure he'll run into journalists at some point today and it's important that he doesn't look flustered and… straight from the love nest.

"My parents," he remembers when he picks up his briefcase with scripts and emergency make-up. "I need… three more minutes, just to tell them… a bit."

Jin nods, and presses a quick kiss to his neck on the way to the couch, where he gets comfortable. Kame stays at the table. Somehow it feels more formal, keeps him more alert.

The phone rings six times before she answers, and he imagines she's needed to pull her dishwashing gloves off first, or turn whatever she's cooking down to simmer.

"Hi Mom."

"Kazuya. That's a funny time to be calling. Everything okay?"

She doesn't watch the gossip channels, is more interested in politics and travel shows, and he's so grateful for that.

"I just thought I'd warn you," he says. "There's stuff about me in the papers, and it's not good."

He thinks he can hear her catch her breath. "Oh, Kazuya. Can't they just leave you alone. How are you holding up?"

"I'm all right." He's all right now. More all right than he should be, after what he did. "I think. But you should know…" There'll be no take-backs. He could deny everything, the pictures and the press and all the vicious rumours in the world, but not what he's about to say. "There are parts of it that are true. I've been cheating on Midori."

There's silence. She'll be so disappointed, and that's not even the worst of it. "Kazuya…" The sadness is what he was most afraid of. "But you've only been married for a few years. I thought you… But you were so happy… oh. Oh, Kazuya."

"I've been cheating on her with men."

He can practically hear his mother thinking. "Oh. I see."

"Yes," he says. He needs to get going. "And it's in the papers. And I have a boyfriend, and I'm in love with him. And I'm about to go to the agency and tell them I'm not going to deny it. So I just… I just wanted to warn you. It's going to be messy, and I'm going to talk to Midori later, and I just…" Suddenly he can't breathe, and he wants her there and he wants to see her face. "I'm really sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner and I'm sorry about Midori. I'd like to call again later, would that… would that be okay?"

"Yes," she says. "Of course. I was going to my quilting circle this afternoon, but maybe I'd better stay at home. I'll be around when you have time to talk."

"No, please— don't mess up your day for me." He's messed up enough things, for enough people. "I'll be in touch, we can figure something out."

"Oh, don't you worry about me," she says, with the breezy voice she uses when it's about New Year's preparations and his dad's diabetes. "Call me when you have time, okay?"

She'll sit down next and wonder what she did wrong. It makes him want to keep her here if they have to be silent at each other for the next hour.

But he has to go. "Thanks," he gets out.

"Good luck, honey," she says, and then she's gone. And she knows. No take-backs.

He puts the phone down, and rubs his hands over his face. Stays like that just for a moment, to catch his breath, catch up with himself. But no time.

He finds Jin looking more worried than he has all morning.

"Did she… she didn't… she'll talk to you again?" He's there suddenly, beside Kame.

Kame nods; can't stop nodding, short and fast, while he's trying to find his voice.

"You told her a lot," Jin says doubtfully.

"I had to."

"You told her about me…" The note of hesitant wonder makes Kame reach for his hand.

"Yeah." He uses Jin's hand to pull himself out of the chair. "They're my parents…" They're people who matter too. He smiles at Jin, and he thinks Jin gets it. "It's not going to be like with Souji."

Jin nods slowly. "Okay," he says.

Kame picks up his briefcase, has a final look around. During some phone call or other, Jin made the bed.

That bed. "You shouldn't let me _near_ you…" It's all back in his head again, every nasty, hideous thought Kame threw at him. How can Jin… how can they ever...

Jin shrugs tightly. "My call, isn't it."

"Why did you let me?" His throat feels dry. "You can't always let me…"

"Well, I _won't_." It's half a surprise how sharp Jin sounds. Sharp and impatient. "This… look, this was a freak accident and I wasn't sure what was up in your head and I thought maybe it'd go somewhere useful but it just went somewhere stupid, and then it stopped. And for the record, if you pull that shit on me again, I am gone."

"Good. I mean... you should be."

"Well, then we are in agreement."

Kame's not sure, but he thinks Jin may be… blushing?

"Yeah," Kame says, and then they're both stuck for words.

Eventually Jin rolls his eyes. "Right, okay, later?" he says. "We'll talk more about your stress malfunctions when you don't have a load of crap to take care of."

Yeah, Kame thinks, following as Jin leads the way to their jackets and shoes.

"I like those clothes," he says when Jin has slipped into his jacket, only the hoodie of his no-name sweater sticking out sloppily. "They look… good on you."

"I'm glad you think so," Jin says. "I don't play dress-up for my boyfriend all the time." He's biting back a grin.

"Can I call you tonight?" Kame blurts out.

"You can call me whenever," Jin replies. "But I'll be especially glad if you call me tonight. Let me know how you're doing, okay? I'll be at work but… I'll be checking my phone."

Jin's work. He keeps his face unconcerned, because it won't be good if he is upset every time Jin's job gets mentioned. It is what it is, right now, and he'll deal, he promised, and he's got the real thing. He doesn't deserve it but he's got it, and he'll do his damnest to keep it.

They slip into shoes, and then it's time to go out there, deal with things. Kame first, alone, in case of journalists in the azaleas.

"Good luck," Jin says softly, and leans in to kiss him lightly on the lips. Kame catches his sleeve between his fingers.

"I need more luck than that," he says, with a desperate little shock when he knows how true that is. Next Jin wraps him in a tight hug, and Jin's tongue is inside his mouth, and Kame drops his briefcase so he can wrap his arms around too, and it's warm and wonderful, and Jin's hand moves to the back of his neck and he feels like he could fall, and Jin's fingers go—

"Hair…" he mumbles, and Jin pulls back.

"What?"

"I can't go out there with my hair in a mess."

Jin snorts, or something like it, his mouth soft for a brief little brush, his strong grip rumpling Kame's coat. That's probably okay. "Idiot," he says, and then he gets busy tugging everything back into place. "There, you look fine. Watch your shoes. Don't step in any puddles."

"It's sunny," Kame says.

"Call me," Jin says, straightening Kame's collar and very absorbed in the buttons.

"Yes." When Jin releases him, he checks the spyhole. Nothing there, nothing on the security cameras. Still Jin hangs back when he opens the door.

This is it.

"Tonight," he says, and they're too far apart to touch now but he seems to feel Jin's worried look right there on his skin.

"Good luck," Jin says again, and then Kame lets the door fall shut behind him.

~

_Chapter 49 to follow 09/02/2012_


	49. Chapter 49

### Friday 13 March

The world looks different on the way back. Clearer and rushed, and Jin feels like a wide-awake stranger. It's sunny, like Kame said. He didn't notice before.

On the subway people are reading the paper and at the stops they're selling it and by the time Jin gets into his street he's almost surprised he can't read Kame's name anywhere.

At least until he gets to the conbini, where the wrinkly grandpa owner is sweeping behind the parking stands for the bikes, and the article jumps out at him again.

Kame.

He gets into his building, says hi to Fujimoto-san in her pretty suit. Everything is so quiet in the elevator.

His door catches on a stray shoe. The t-shirt he slept in is on the table, and he thinks with a blush that he's still wearing the same boxers. He left his watch beside the bed.

Just three hours ago.

He picks up the shoe, puts it away. Puts away the t-shirt, and considers pulling on his watch, only… he hasn't showered since last night. He leaves the watch. Makes his bed, thinks of making Kame's.

Kame must have felt so alone, waiting, trapped in that ridiculous brain of his.

Jin sighs, his chest tight, and for a moment he doesn't move at all, just stares at his tidy sofa. His boyfriend is an idiot.

And Jin needs to call Ootomo. Not about what they decided, that can wait. But, well. General bookkeeping.

He's lucky and catches the office voice-mail; doesn't have to talk about scandals or answer questions why Kame needed to fuck him on scandal morning, is there a connection, is it Jin in the photos, and why does Jin know what Kame's agency said.

He says his thing and hangs up before he realizes what sort of wham-bam deal this is going to look like, if he's done at ten in the morning. He doesn't really want Ootomo to think that about Kame…

Kame told his _mother_.

He makes himself some tea, finds himself shuffling from foot to foot, impatient with the water heater. Normally he likes his small apartment, likes knowing where the walls are, but now he wishes he had a second room so he could go there and maybe find something to do.

On a normal day, he'd go back to sleep so he doesn't yawn his way through work later. But not a chance. And he's just made the bed.

At least he doesn't have to be out there dealing with agents and reporters.

For a moment he imagines what it would be like if Kame did move in with him. Where they'd squeeze their clothes together and what they'd do about Kame's big TV.

Then he laughs at himself, and at the image of Kame weighing their options and looking obsessively serious. Of course it's silly. Kame owns an apartment building, Kame's not going to go _broke_.

His tea's gone cold. He drinks it anyway, sitting down and keeping his fidgety feet in check.

He wishes he could tell somebody. That they're together, that he's in love, that he's worried. He glances at the TV and hesitates. He should know what's going on. But he's afraid to find out.

Kame will be at his agent's. Getting talked at by a scary woman; Jin has to remind himself she's on Kame's side. If she'll stay on his side. He hopes Kame isn't too reckless, and then he hopes Kame won't let her talk him out of everything again, and he really wishes he could talk to somebody.

Some gossip program has the front page he knows by heart now. Lots of questions, no answers. _No official comment as yet from Kamenashi-san or his agency._ Zoom on the fake pictures, some expert talking about Photoshop. At least that got around. The snapshots of Kame and the boys from the school movie, as if that's a crime. Old footage, Jin recognizes some of it from Youtube. Denials, protestations, the wedding. Kame's wife looks so nice.

He hopes Kame will be all right.

Tomo will be up; will have been up for hours, working. Maybe he's seen the paper. Jin could call him, but he doesn't know what he'd say. Tomo knows things and doesn't like them, and even if Jin only wondered for one treacherous panicked moment, he shouldn't go around telling people more.

But they'll be together now, for real. After knowing for himself for so long, not _wanting_ to know because it seemed pathetic and hopeless and dumb… it feels so weird to know it's really real. Like something inside him can breathe at last.

If he weren't so worried about Kame.

He checks his phone at the end of the program; stupid, because if Kame had called he'd have known. He checks anyway, then flips through his short address book almost randomly, and finally puts the phone away.

Yuuya knows stuff, and what he doesn't know he might have pieced together. But he can just about guess what Yuuya will think about the Kamenashi downfall drama and if he says it Jin will have to kill him and then he still won't have a friend to talk to. So that won't work.

The TV is talking about some actress' magic diet. Jin thinks her smile looked nicer before and this program is stupid. But if he follows the news on which onsens are especially good for the skin and whether cucumbers are better than aloe, maybe he won't worry for fifteen minutes.

Half an hour later on a different channel, it's Kame again. All the pictures they show are really good ones, like it's an offense to be handsome.

Tatsuya would care. Tatsuya likes Kame, he'll be nice about it, isn't one of the people who think Kamenashi had it coming.

But he doesn't have Tatsuya's phone number.

He washes his tea cup instead. Dries it, and puts it away. Still more than five hours before he has to be at the club, and he has no idea how to spend them. He can't make music like this, fretting and restless, excited and anxious as he is.

Just when he's decided he should maybe go for a walk, the announcer says 'Kamenashi' again, and this time it's different pictures, and a written statement, stuff is happening, and he feels his heart beat high.

But then it's nothing much. "Kamenashi-san's agency has let us know that Kamenashi-san will address the preposterous rumours about him and his co-actors in person as soon as he can get away from his pressing official business."

Jin doesn't know how it works, normally. Doesn't know whether this'll make people wonder even more, or whether it'll make them think Kame isn't worried because it's all nonsense. Not long, and Kame will be talking to his wife.

More waiting, then. He sits himself down again. No good if he starts pacing the cage like an anxious panda bear.

He feels sorry for Kame's wife, and at the same time he wants her to go easy on him. That's probably unfair.

Then his phone rings, the buzz vibrating it across the table, and all of Jin's blood slumps to his legs. Could mean whatever, so early, if it's— the tune is Tomo's.

He breathes deeply, before he remembers to actually pick the fuck up. "Hi," he says. A simple hi shouldn't sound so guilty.

"Hey, Jin! Um, I didn't wake you, did I?"

Jin laughs weakly. "No, I've been up. A while." He can't talk to Tomo but it's still nice to hear his voice.

"I saw that paper," Tomo says. "The guys at storage… anyway, I read it, about that guy. Kamenashi."

That guy. Jin's not surprised. Not really hurt, either. He can't ask Tomo to like Kame, he knows that. "Ah," he says.

"I just wanted to make sure, that's not you in the picture, is it? I mean, you're not in trouble? At your work, with the discretion and all…"

"No," Jin says quickly. "No trouble, it's not me. I mean, it's not anyone at all." Tomo doesn't have time to watch TV all morning, he won't know this. "That picture's fake, photoshopped."

"Oh," Tomo says, and there's a weird silence. "How do you know? I mean, can you tell?"

Shit. That— shit. "It's on TV," he says, like a liar. He'd tell, in a heartbeat, if it was only his secret.

"That's… why would anybody do that?" Jin's not sure whether he's hearing scepticism or simply puzzlement there. Maybe a bit of both.

"We don't know," he admits.

There's silence. Tomo, thinking. Or maybe doing something with his hands, who knows, Tomo must be working. "So you're still watching the circus, huh?" he asks then.

Jin nods into the quiet. The TV is flickering mutely, some girl idols dancing on a stage, and he still doesn't know anything. "I'm so worried about him," he says. Flushes, because it's Tomo, but everything is so up in the air, and he feels so alone, with Kame out there dealing with whatever. And… it's Tomo. "And I keep watching but nothing's really happening, and I don't know what's _going_ to happen…" He stops. Tomo doesn't even know what Kame said he'd do, how crazy it might still get.

Tomo gives an odd sort of grunt. "Yeah… when do you have to be at work?"

Jin shrugs. "Five hours or so." Work's going to be weird, too.

"Do you want to come on deliveries with me?"

"What?"

"Just a thought. Would get you out of the house. You can still worry in my car."

Deliveries with Tomo. Not going nuts here all by himself. That's… "Yes," he says belatedly. "I mean, I'd like that. I can… I'll help you carry, too." He doesn't know how he could ever think Tomo would… Jin knew he wouldn't. Knows. He almost apologizes, he feels so guilty.

"Company's help enough," Tomo says. "But cool. I'll be in your area in fifteen minutes, does that work?"

"I'll be ready." He hasn't showered yet, not since Kame… but he'll be fine, he doesn't have to dress up. He casts another glance at the TV, its bright spongy subtitles. The idols are discussing perfect boyfriends. "That'll be great."

*~*~*

They're bringing an old lady in Minamikamata her heavy weekly shopping. Cans and rice and some cabbage. Jin feels less lonely already, and moderately useful. Tomo's smile, the smell of the ancient vanilla car freshener, the whiff of old cigarettes Tomo never got out of the seats; the reassuring rumble underneath him. He likes the van, where he can look ahead over the tops of all the cars. See what's going on, see what's coming. Tomo's playing B'z, muted enough that it's easy to talk. When they talk.

Jin wishes he knew. He won't switch to the radio, that's not the point of being here. But it's a bit like leaving the room during a cup final.

"Did you stay long last night?" he tries after half a song of silence. He already heard all about the accounting class and the songwriting then, which is kind of inconvenient now.

Tomo shoots him a sideways look, like he knows exactly what he's thinking. "Around two, not long after you," he says. "I just had to fill in some order forms after closing."

"Ah, right," Jin says. "Beer."

"Yes," Tomo says seriously. "Beer."

"Good."

"Yes, I thought so. A lot of people think beer's important."

"Hmmm."

They fall silent again, for several long minutes.

"Oh, about the apartment," Tomo says. "I got you an appointment tomorrow?"

The apartment. Jin has to force his brain back to these concrete things, away from Kame. Tomo told him about another place. "Tomorrow's okay," he says, without really knowing. But he'll make time. Looking at apartments is just sensible. "Thanks."

He checks the time on the old watch Tomo has glued to the dashboard. It's noon. Kame must have talked to his scary agent by now.

"Do you want the radio on?"

"I… what?"

Tomo sighs. "Would it help?"

He has to think. "No," he says. "There's really nothing I can do…"

"True. But, well. Let me know."

They deliver Whatever-san's cabbage and canned goods. Jin insists on doing some of the heavy lifting, and has to bite back a grin when the lady seems very worried that Jin might be Tomo's replacement. When they've carried the stuff into her tiny spotless kitchen and sorted it into shelves, she gives them both a piece of plum candy.

"I think you're the highlight of her day," Jin says when they're back in the car.

Tomo waves the candy at him and says, "Shut up, and don't be jealous."

"Hey, I got one too," Jin points out.

"New kid bonus," Tomo finds, and next it'll be a stressed housewife with three kids over in Haginaka, whom they're bringing a microwave.

It goes quiet again, B'z doing their thing. Jin fondles his plum candy. The rice at Kame's seems ages ago, but he doesn't really have an appetite.

"Hey. I'm sure it'll be fine," Tomo says. "He'll make a statement and deny everything and apologize for the fuss, and it'll all be forgotten in a few days. He's got a wife, right?" He doesn't even sound nasty about it. He's trying to be helpful, to make Jin worry less.

"I'm not sure," Jin says, because it's all he can say. "That that's how it'll go."

"Come on," Tomo says, with a quick friendly smile. "That's how these things usually go, right?"

Jin looks out the window and makes a vague aimless noise.

Then his phone rings. It feels less like a bungee jump this time, but he still scrambles for it before his brain helpfully informs him it's the e-mail tone, not Kame calling.

"Sorry," he mumbles automatically.

It's Kame, e-mailing. It's not hard to open an e-mail but Jin feels tense and sweaty anyway.

Then he laughs.

"What?" Tomo asks.

"Nothing," he says. "Just…" And ends up laughing again, because this is funny, and Kame probably has no idea how much it helps. "He says his agent is stabbing voodoo dolls that look like him."

"Kamenashi?"

"Yeah." So the scary agent didn't change his mind. "So I think it went okay," he explains. "He doesn't really have a sense of humour when he's, you know. Stressed."

"Ah," Tomo says with a dubious look at him. "Okay. I guess that's good. Not… well, not the challenged sense of humour, obviously. The other thing. You know."

Jin knows.

"So… does he usually send you mail?"

"Uh. I… we." Damn. "We talked, this morning. He said he'd try to keep me informed, only, well. He didn't know how the day would go, either."

He'll be on his way to his wife now. Jin wonders if there's been a statement or whether it's going to wait till after.

"You like him, don't you," Tomo says after a long moment. "I mean… you really like him."

Jin nods. He's turning red and he's nervous, but it's also like before, that sense of something warm and solid. He doesn't have to pretend anymore.

"Guess it can't be helped," Tomo says. "Whom we like." He shows Jin a quirky little smile, a smile like he's definitely not criticizing Jin and making damn sure Jin knows it. "Just… don't let him use you, okay? Any more than… you know."

Jin blinks, sorts through that. The client thing, of course, Tomo doesn't know… but how else would Kame…

"I don't think I'm much use to him in this." He's a reason Kame's not wriggling out of it all even though he could. If it wasn't for him, this might never have started.

"If you weren't, I don't think he'd be e-mailing you," Tomo says. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Okay," Jin says, because it's all he _can_ say and Tomo means well, even if he's starting to unnerve Jin. "I'll be careful." And once he's talked to Kame, once this day is over and settled, he can tell Tomo the rest of it too. Just not yet.

He fingers his phone. "Do you, um. Is it okay if I write him back, just briefly?"

"No, dude, I now have to stop and make you get out so you don't defile the airwaves in my car with emo messages to your film star drama guy."

Jin looks at him.

"I'd wait for you, though," Tomo adds generously. Then he rolls his eyes. "Geez, go ahead. Tell him I said hi."

Jin looks at him some more.

"That last part was a joke."

*~*~*

The club is buzzing with it. The clients are whispering, pretending not to watch the screen that shows pictures of Kame's agency, clips from earlier when Kame arrived and smiled his way past the press.

Everything is muted and focused, voices everywhere but never anything clear. Jin sees Takahisa approach a table with standard cheer, and he thinks he sees Tsukada jump.

It's like an underwater bee hive. Only the bees would drown. So maybe not.

He gets himself a drink, to keep busy, and Jiro behind the bar says, "Hey, you heard about Kamenashi?" and he just wants to get drunk, or go home.

So he says something vague to the bartender, of course he's heard, all over the news, right. Then he pulls back. No peace in waiting by the bar either.

The escorts are worse. Jin keeps running away from the speculation. Jun is playing at waiting at the other end of the bar, pretending not to read the paper Jiro left there, while Tatsuya and his client make such serious hushed faces that Jin is sure they're discussing either Kame or the AIDS epidemic in Africa. Koichi's in the group over by the wash paintings, and from the way he gave Jin the evil eye earlier, Jin's not planning to spend any time near him. Takahisa and Junno are with two austere businessmen, but talking more to each other than with their frightened-looking game, and Nino has apparently swapped for a lounge shift and is hanging out with Satoshi and Masaki in front of the big screen, none of them doing any work at all. Ootomo would not approve.

Ootomo is upstairs, of course, drooling for more gossip himself.

Jin told him nothing. Just that Kamenashi-sama didn't seem to be blaming the club and didn't mention lawyers. He shrugged a lot.

At the end of all this, he'll also have to talk to Ootomo. It makes him want to get drunk more.

Yuuya is in the one group that seems to be having a good old sports conversation, but that's not what Jin's here for tonight. He scans the other end of the room, sees a lonely guy who has either repelled advances or fallen victim to all the secret TV watching going on.

He actually meets Jin's eyes, and Jin forces himself to try a tentative smile. The guy gives him a tentative smile back, then ducks his head and scans the food menu, as if he can't be seen flirting with whores.

Tonight's not going to go well for him.

He has his drink a little faster. The stupid standing around reminds him of months ago, when he was clueless and awkward all the time. But he can fake it a little better now, walking around, pretending to focus on people.

Some new arrival waves him over; just him, that's promising, and the next fifteen minutes of not craning his head for the same old shots of Kame and just letting the guy stare at his mouth and legs are pretty promising too.

Maybe he'll score tonight after all. He nods and smiles his way along, tries to ignore Yuuya's laughter, or the mentions of 'Kamenashi' and 'club' and 'future' drifting over.

Until the guy asks Jin what wine he'd like, and there's a special way they have of asking that, the invitation to make some money with your order because you'll be making some money anyway, and Jin knows he's not ready. To go upstairs now, two pricey drinks from now, have this guy's hands on him while his head is full of Kame, make noises and movements he doesn't want to make.

He fakes his way through another fifteen minutes of politics talk, mainly by asking really stupid, obvious questions, and either the guy isn't into stupid or Jin's just lucky, but somehow Tadayoshi sees the signs and joins them, and Jin makes his excuses a few minutes later.

He's not sure what he was thinking, coming here. Only that he can't tell Kame he won't quit his job, and then stay home and watch TV all day.

For a moment he considers sneaking back upstairs for an hour, to get his head sorted. He's not going to pick up a client like this, anyway.

"Hey, Jin." Jaejoong joins him in the no-man's-land at the side of the bar. "You have no luck with the parliament man?"

Jin waves a greeting with his water glass. "That what he was?" He really needs to get it together. "Yeah. No chemistry. You know."

Jaejoong gets some water for himself, too, but waits till the bartender is gone again. "Business is slow for everyone tonight, I think," he commiserates.

Jin hums vague agreement.

"You have heard about Kamenashi?"

Right. "It's on the news," he shrugs. "Sure." Someone even put on the little TV above the bar, which is usually only for when the Emperor dies or really important baseball is on, just so nobody escapes the Kame fretting for sure.

"Do you think he might be too scared to come to the club now?"

If Koichi asked him that, Jin would tell him to get the fuck out of his face. But Jaejoong looks merely concerned. Jin didn't know Jaejoong liked Kame, he doesn't think they ever… god.

He shrugs again. "I guess it depends." Kame's not going to come to the club anymore because he has a boyfriend and boyfriends kind of preclude whores, so there.

"Are you worried then? I thought it would mean a big loss of income for you."

Oh. That. Yeah. Boyfriends kind of precludes money, too.

No money was the point. It's a good thing.

"Well, I'll deal," he says, and gestures around. "All those great opportunities…" A room full of fidgety whispering old men.

Jaejoong gives him another compassionate look, but Jin keeps his face blank and postpones the niggling thoughts until he can think them unwatched.

It is a fact. Saving up will be harder without all the rest money from Kame. He'd gotten used to it, watching the nice fat numbers in his bank account grow. Not many others who'll throw out a fortune just to spend time with him.

He'll just have to work hard. Hang on in there a little longer.

Kame won't like it. Jin doesn't like it, and Kame will like it less. But there's really no alternative. That is also a fact and they'll deal.

He straightens his shoulders and looks around. Clients. He'll get good at getting them; just not tonight.

Kame's face is on the little screen again – same sequence over and over, the newspaper page, the early statement, his arrival at the agency, smiles and waves; _Don't believe everything you hear._ Promises to tell all later. _My agent will shoot me if I don't talk to her first._ He's charming them, he's good at it. Jin can't charm clients with Kame's face watching.

"That is a lot of press pressing in on him."

Jin jumps at Junno's voice behind him. "Don't sneak up on people like that."

"I didn't sneak. Ootomo doesn't allow sneakers."

Jin shrugs.

"How do you think he'll take it?" Junno slides onto a bar stool, looks settled there and as if he's expecting Jin to stay with him. "You know him pretty well by now, don't you?"

"Seems he's mad about the thing with the co-stars," Jin says. The agent released another statement shortly after Kame vanished inside the agency, hinting direly at joint lawsuits with representatives of the other actors.

"I'm sure he's mad about more than that," Junno says. "I just guess that one's really easy to deny. Inside sources…" He makes a face like he's thinking hard about a pun, but nothing occurs.

Jin shrugs again. He's doing that a lot tonight. But he's not interested in confirming people's gossip for them, not even Junno's.

"Do you want to team up for the politics faction?" Junno suggests cheerfully, nodding towards Tsukada and his companion, who are amazingly still unoccupied. "We can be a coalition!"

"Uh," Jin says. "I've already scared off a Diet guy. I think I'll wait, for… someone I know." He smiles and hopes it looks confident.

Junno makes a regretful sound, but decides to tackle Tsukada in a solo effort. He wishes Jin luck with the turtle-pace news and bounces away. Jin still sees Tsukada hunching in on himself before Junno gets invited to sit.

On the TV, sombre people are berating the declining moral standards of journalism and the declining moral standards of public figures, keeping their options open on whether they'll throw their final fit over the gay sex or people talking about the gay sex.

He needs a break.

It's been months since he's done avoidance in the lounge bathroom.

Turns out he's not the first one in there. Shota is sitting fully dressed on a toilet lid in an open stall, playing with his cell phone.

"Hey," he says when Jin walks past. When Jin doesn't move to use the facilities, he adds, "You catching a breather, too? Pretty claustrophobic in there, isn't it."

"Yeah." Jin runs cold water over a face towel, wrings it out and carefully holds his face into it.

"Any luck yet?"

Jin shakes his head, then lifts his face out of the towel. "It's only six, though."

"Six on a Friday."

"Well," Jin says. "You've seen them."

"Oh, yes," Shota says with a wry smile. "Seen them up close, I practically crawled into their laps. Nothing moving there. Just wondered if you'd been luckier."

"Me? Luckier than you?" Jin laughs. "You might want to ask Yuuya."

"I talked to him earlier. I think he's ready to cut the cables on all the TVs. Not so happy with Kamenashi cramping his style."

No. Yuuya wouldn't be.

Jin dumps the towel into the rose-patterned laundry bin and grabs some of the mineral powder they stash here for emergencies. Last thing he needs is a shiny face.

If _Yuuya_ can't get the clients upstairs…

"I'm sure Kamenashi could have done without it, too," he says. He's not trying to defend Kame, it's just a fact.

"Yeah," Shota says thoughtfully. "You know, I never really got the thing about Kamenashi. I don't actually think he's that hot."

Jin says nothing, just bobs his head vaguely. He can't talk to anyone. He's avoiding Yuuya and fudging with Tomo, and Kame is off talking to his wife…

"He's so skinny… and kind of uptight..."

"Sorry," Jin says. "Gotta pee." Then he locks himself in a stall and sits there until the soft bzz-bzz of Shota's touch screen has stopped and the door has opened and closed.

*~*~*

What finally makes him go back into the lounge isn't the feeling that he's ready, but the thought that he might be missing the update he's been waiting for all day. He doesn't want to get it surrounded by strangers, but it's better than nothing at all.

Nothing much has changed. The atmosphere is the same hushed excitement, Shota is still clientless, and Junno is by now talking animatedly at rather than with Tsukada and his colleague. Yamatani has arrived, later than usual but reading a paper that doesn't have Kame on it, and when he sees Jin, Jin gives him a wave and a bow.

He should get a client. It would be smart. Profitable. Setting a good standard.

And then with his luck he'll be in the middle of fucking when some announcement finally comes and miss it, or worse, have to watch Kame face reporters while he's being felt up by some other guy.

He looks around. If they're quick… But nobody's even buying.

No. It's not a client night, he should face it. Ootomo won't hold it against him if he can't score tonight, if even Yuuya and Junno can't.

So he wanders over to Yamatani, with his newspaper and his ginseng blend tea, and when he's there he gives another bow.

"Good evening," he says. "Am I interrupting?"

Yamatani puts the paper down immediately. "Most certainly not. How are you, Jin?"

"I'm all right. Would it be okay if I joined you?"

"Of course." He folds the paper up properly and picks up his tea. "You're always welcome to join me." He's used to it, too, from all those months ago, Jin sitting down and just not leaving.

Jin can do that again, just this once.

"Is something wrong with tomorrow?" Yamatani asks lightly, and Jin shakes his head.

"No, tomorrow is great. I'll be here."

Yamatani smiles a wrinkly smile. "I'm glad to hear it."

Jin blushes a bit. Saturday is when they fuck; it's good he gets to keep that comfort. And it's good to slump into the seat and know where they stand. He doesn't have to watch shirt wrinkles so much or whether the lip gloss stays on, with Yamatani. He can get his brain to shut the fuck up for a few minutes until it's needed again.

"Is everything all right with you, Jin? You look a little tired, if you'll forgive me for saying so."

Tired. God, he should be. He ought to be feeling it, barely five hours of sleep. But he's just feeling weird. "I'm okay," he says again. "It's been… a weird sort of day here." He nods at Yamatani's fellow dignitaries.

"I must say, I did notice," Yamatani replies over his steaming glass cup. "I said hello to Miwa-san and he nearly poured his Champagne on poor Yuuya-kun."

Jin laughs for the first time since he had Kame's e-mail. He tilts his head and shrugs, in the _what can you do_ way.

"So would you care for a beer?" Yamatani offers. Just like the good old times.

Only Jin doesn't want booze, not when he's finally starting to feel a bit like he can settle, stop flipping from one agitated thought to the next.

"I think… I'd have some of what you're having?"

Yamatani finds this delightful. "I'm sure your cholesterol levels will thank you," he says, and they end up laughing again.

It's quite a nice tea, turns out, with a hint of orange. They sip it companionably, get a refill while Yamatani tells him of his granddaughter's new school, and occasionally they glance at the screen above the bar where the same footage still plays every half hour or so and commentators wonder more and more insistently why Kamenashi-san is taking so long to say his piece.

"They can be terrible," Yamatani says with a little wince. "Like bloodhounds. I hope he has a good answer for them."

"He seemed confident earlier on," Jin says, and he hates the pleading sound in his own voice. He doesn't know why it's taking so long, either, what's going on, what they're saying to Kame or trying to make him do in there.

Things start moving on his left; Yuuya has pulled Miwa at last and they are heading for the concierge. Jin casts a look around and notices that Jun is also gone. Yuuya is glancing up at the bar TV and turning away with a wry face, and then his eyes come to rest on Jin.

Jin manages a nod and a friendly smile, or so he thinks; thinks again when Yuuya frowns and looks for a moment as if he wants to wander across. But then Miwa's arm is around Yuuya's waist, and Yuuya mouths 'later' at Jin before pasting on a flattered smile and turning back to his quarry.

"I'm glad to see I didn't upset the course of events there too much," Yamatani says.

"You probably helped," Jin says honestly. "Nothing like spilling stuff on a guy to make you feel like you should take him to a room and help him out of his clothes."

Yamatani laughs. "So that's how it works? I'll bear that in mind."

Jin fondles the elegant tea cup and smiles to himself. "Thank you," he says suddenly. "For the tea. And for letting me sit with you."

Yamatani raises thinning eyebrows. "There's no need to thank me, Jin. It's always good to talk to you."

They don't even talk that much. The time passes between comfortable silences. Now and then Yamatani makes a gentle comment on the hushed proceedings at a neighbouring table, asks Jin about Italian food, tells him something he read in the paper.

Yamatani was his first, here at the club. A blow job, he was done in five minutes, fast because on the street they were always in a hurry, and he always wanted it over. Yamatani never said a thing about it, just got him a drink and asked him friendly questions about the club and about what food he liked for the rest of the hour.

Jin never told him how nice that was, how much it helped.

He drinks his tea and thinks about Kame. If Kame ever misses variety, if he'll want to come to Jin's new place, if he's okay. Why there's no news.

Yamatani gets him to try a different tea next, yellow and "good for your joints," and they're just experimenting with how much sugar is right for masking the slightly bitter taste when the noise goes up at the big screen TV, and Jiro at the bar reaches up for the volume on the small one, and suddenly everybody is sitting straighter, all talk stops.

"…Kamenashi speaks to us at last…" comes the announcer's voice. Jin looks at Yamatani and Yamatani nods, and he gets up, gets closer, it won't look strange because others do it too and nobody is even pretending to ignore the TV any more.

Jin's first thought is that Kame is wearing a different suit. Grey, wide shoulders. Crisp white shirt, and the morning's pale blue tie replaced by a charcoal one. Somebody's been at his hair, too. He looks strong and amazing and Jin wonders how nervous he is.

Nothing shows. He doesn't even do that tongue thing. He smiles at the microphones that get pushed into his face, and waves aside the paper the woman next to him is holding out.

The reporters are a noisy lot, but they fall completely silent as soon as he starts to speak.

There's the usual. Apologies for causing concern. Apologies for making them wait.

"Blah blah," somebody next to Jin says, and half a dozen others go, "Shhh!"

Kame explains that the delay was caused by the need to consult lawyers about what he could and could not say, in case he and his co-stars decided to sue over allegations of improper dealings. Jin wonders if it's true.

"So you deny those allegations?" a reporter shouts out, and Kame raises his chin.

"I deny them completely. They are lies and they do a great injustice to many excellent actors with whom I have had the pleasure to work. I'd like to apologize to them for the embarrassment and distress caused."

There's an impeccable bow, and then Kame is standing straight again.

"So what about the rest?" somebody else calls, and the microphones hover closer again.

"You all know by now that those pictures were manufactured. I don't know who is trying to discredit me. I'm upset to think that I might have made somebody so unhappy that they felt they had to resort to such measures."

"He's delaying," Tsukada is muttering under his voice to his fat companion. "But they know that trick."

And right enough, "But is it true?" is the next question, asked by an eager young man with dark-rimmed glasses.

Jin holds his breath.

"Some of it is," Kame says, and then he has to stop, or maybe he stops for effect, but the noise in the crowd fills the pause for him. "Some of it is true. My marriage has been childless, and I have to admit that I failed as a husband. My wife has been patient and kind, but we have had to face the fact that we don't belong together. We are getting divorced."

"What the _fuck_ ," the fat guy says, and other people say other things and the reporters on screen say things and Jin's staring at Kame and Kame… is staring straight at him, he's sure, and Kame did it, he really did it, and wow.

Jin's feeling shaky all of a sudden.

Kame doesn't look shaky at all. So different from… twelve hours ago, it was, just twelve hours.

It's not the end of it, it's nowhere near the end, and there are questions about details, and questions about callboys which don't go away, and Kame listens with a sincere face until everybody's got it out of their system, and then he explains that he thinks whoever it was used the failed marriage as a basis for all sort sorts of random, irresponsible speculation, and tried to spice it up with fake photos.

"As for the ways in which I _did_ fail in our marriage—" Jin can see he's addressing the female reporters specifically "—I would prefer to respect my wife's privacy and not hurt her more than I already have."

"Are you gay, then?" The pushy young man in the trenchcoat isn't giving up.

Kame blinks. Once. Smiles with an air of benign puzzlement. "Why does that matter to you… are you interested?"

You can almost hear the silent gasp, from everywhere, and Kame is just holding still. Like he was never a frightened mess. This is the clip they'll be running again forever, for _years_.

"I am sorry," Kame says with a hint of a smile, "for asking such a personal question, of course. I do not actually believe it is anyone's business, about you, about me, about anyone. Please respect my privacy, too."

Finally, he apologizes again – to his agent for causing trouble, to his co-stars for having their names dragged into this, to the reporters for making them wait so long. "I would like to thank my wife for her support and her friendship, and I'm deeply sorry things did not work out differently," he says, and maybe that's the clip they'll be running forever because for a moment Kame looks small and naked, you want to wrap him up and take him away. Then it's gone, and it's bows all round, and then all questions are ignored and he leaves.

"Holy shit," Satoshi says somewhere, and nobody shushes or apologizes. Then the buzzing picks back up, whispers, chairs being moved, someone lowering the volume on the bar TV.

"I don't think they accept such _blatant_ members here," one of the older guys mutters, settling back into whichever group to a lot of anxious nodding.

"There'll be no fucking any of these guys tonight," Tadayoshi says next to him, and Jin stares at the mute screen without listening.

"I don't know about blatant, exactly," a lowered voice says, and someone else is going, "…such famous movies back then…" and careers and press and morals and children, for some fucking reason.

Holy shit is right.

Suddenly there's Tatsuya by his side; finding his eyes, ignoring the bustle. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

Jin's not sure. He doesn't know about showbiz, about how any of this works, but maybe… "I don't know," he says. "About his career. I don't know. He'll try?"

Tatsuya nods slowly, with a long probing look that Jin doesn't know how to read.

"I think he's okay apart from that," he says, surprising himself. "He seemed pretty okay."

Tatsuya seems to be finishing a thought. "I'm glad," he says then. "Very glad to hear that. Thank you."

Jin bows, just a little, and then the group is dispersing and Tatsuya is back with his client, and, right. At least he knows where to go.

He smiles fleetingly at Yamatani before taking hold of his tea. Cold again, it's his day for cold tea. But it doesn't matter.

Kame meant it. He's leaving his wife. He told _everybody_.

There's a beer, being set down in front of him. Jin's not sure how that happened. He squints at it for a long moment before he remembers it's beer, and what to do with it.

Yamatani is smiling at him. "I would never presume," he says. "But you looked like you might be finished with tea."

"Thank you," Jin says automatically. But, yeah. He takes three big long gulps, and it's cold, and good, and just right.

Holy shit.

"Quite the excitement," Yamatani says kindly, into the room at large.

"I guess," Jin says. "At least now we know? Everybody's been waiting…" He's still jittery, even with the beer emptying fast and the nice prickly glow in his stomach.

"It was a very risky statement." Yamatani is contemplating his tea, too. Replaying scenes, maybe. They're playing for Jin. _Please respect my privacy._ "I hope it will work out for him the way he wanted it."

Jin finishes his beer. "I hope so too," he mumbles. He feels his phone, in his pocket where they're not even supposed to keep it, but— no. He's in the lounge.

With a client.

Then he pulls it out and gives Yamatani a quick look, and says, "I know this is rude, but is it okay if I write someone a quick e-mail? I wouldn't ask if… you know." Somehow he's always asking people if he's allowed to e-mail today.

"Please," Yamatani says. "I don't mind at all."

 _I watched you. You were amazing._ He's quick about it, and when he slides the phone shut and apologizes again, he feels even better.

It gets quiet like before. Yamatani muses about the press nowadays, so much more thirsty and ruthless than he remembers, and the internet that lets nothing go away and die. Then he talks about his son taking over the business, and his granddaughter, when she'll be old enough.

It's comfortable. Now and then Jin laughs, playing with his second beer, and Yamatani pretends he's not being silly.

The TV is mute now, and there's other stuff too, Americans and something about whales, and then Kame again.

Yamatani is watching him. They do like that clip, the one about Kame's wife. Yamatani tilts his head, is thinking, Jin watching the lines on his forehead.

He twirls his beer. "Did you ever think about it?"

It just happens. He knows he shouldn't have, and Ootomo would have a fit.

Yamatani knows what he means, and he tilts his head again. "I don't think so," he says, thoughtful like the question is entirely reasonable. "I was born in such a different time…" Then he smiles. "It's complicated. It was always complicated."

"Sorry," Jin says. "I'm sorry, that was rude."

Yamatani shrugs amiably. "I think it would be a little ridiculous if I got upset by you wondering about it. Don't you?"

"I don't know," Jin says, and he laughs a little awkwardly. "Most people don't seem to care if it's ridiculous or not."

"I suppose," Yamatani concedes with another smile. He drinks his tea, bitter with just enough sugar, and when he leans back again he's still lost in some train of thought.

"My wife's been dead fifteen years," he says, to something beyond Jin. "I really did love her. And so did our children. She never knew." He lifts his old shoulders. "I don't know what exactly that means."

It's not a real answer. Not even a whole story. But it's a weirdly private moment, and Jin smiles when he thinks it's okay, and they drink together.

They pass one more round talking about less loaded things. Jin thinks giddily that it's funny this is a bit like Tomo's van, cheering him up and distracting him, only in a sex club with a nice old client.

"Excuse me for barging in like this," comes from beside him. "I noticed you both are about to be out of drinks… might I join you?"

It's Eda.

Of course. Somehow that just fits.

Jin looks at Yamatani, who takes in the scene with a fleeting little smile and says… "I think that will be up to Jin. As I won't be staying much longer…" He's made no move to leave, but he knows what Eda is fishing for, and of course that's polite, and of course Jin will say yes, thanks, feel free, because that's what he does in the lounge even when Kame is sitting right next to him and he's got only himself to blame—

"We were so rudely interrupted last time," Eda says regretfully as he drops himself into the empty armchair. But then he smiles at Jin. "Not likely to happen today, eh?" His eyes flick meaningfully towards the TV screen.

Jin feels himself turn hot; but that's just his heart, his pulse, his body. His mind is cold, and right now it's very careful.

Yamatani is politely studying his drink.

"The cheek of some people," Eda adds, like he's being confidential with Jin, and he winks. "Guess we'll see where that'll land them now, right?"

It could have been Eda, Jin thinks, everything still slow. He sure dislikes Kame enough. But there are the confidentiality agreements, and Eda doesn't know where Kame lives.

Jin should hold on to the regulars he still has. That would be the clever thing. Put up with it. It won't kill him.

Kame didn't do the clever thing an hour ago.

"Excuse me for one brief moment, please," he says to Yamatani, and then he gets up and steps away, inviting Eda to follow. Just a couple of steps, enough for politeness. Politeness is important.

"I'm afraid," he says, still polite, "tonight's not a good night."

"But this gentleman there just—"

"Or any night," Jin says, with a weird shiver of fear down his spine and the rest of him just _right_. "I think you might find one of my colleagues much more pleasing than me in the future."

He notices that Yamatani is stirring his tea, trying hard not to be an audience.

Eda is staring at him. "More— but I'm very happy with… but you—" It's sinking in in disbelieving little spurts.

Jin thinks of Eda's fingers, of soccer, of his deep intrusive laugh when he pats Jin and is _encouraging_.

"I'll be happy to recommend someone," he says. If Eda's fool enough to accept, he'll end up with Jun.

"You don't… how ungrateful…" And he's finally got it. His eyes are cold.

Jin bows, because it's the club, and he says, "Thank you very much for all the kindness you have shown me so far," because it doesn't hurt.

It doesn't hurt at all. They're done.

Eda turns on his heel and leaves.

Right.

Kame may have to re-build half his life. Jin can find a couple new clients.

Jin stands for a few more blinks, clears his throat. When he sits again his legs feel wobbly.

"Sorry about that," he says to Yamatani. "It's… I just…"

He shrugs. There's really not much more to say, and he doesn't comment on clients, not even the not valued ones.

"I'm sure it's not my business," Yamatani says, with a little twitch to his mouth. "Quite an evening we are having, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Jin feels weirdly out of breath. Quite an evening. Quite a day.

He wonders if they've let Kame go home by now. Where home is now. The apartment, most likely. Jin's glad he tidied up the bed for him.

"More exhausting day for some than for others." Yamatani gives him a gentle look, before his expression switches to casual. "Would you like another drink?"

Jin would, but he's wondering if he's starting to be an imposition.

"I think I'd go for wine myself," Yamatani muses. "A moderate and appropriate little glass can't hurt?"

Jin is laughing, and he's not even sure why. He sticks with beer, though. Yamatani finds that totally appropriate too.

~

_Chapter 50 to follow 16/02/2011_


	50. Chapter 50

### Friday 13 March

"Well, I hope you're happy now."

Kame sinks into one of the cushioned chairs of the conference room. His legs say that was a good idea.

Hamaguchi has snapped the door shut behind them. The room smells of coffee and sweat and six hours of bare nerves.

Happy.

"Yes," he says. What else is he going to say? "Thank you."

She growls something. Her assistant jumps. The lawyer helped them draft the statement but is off to make phone calls, so now it's just them.

The table is littered with Hamaguchi's phone, her second phone, her laptop, a time planner, an old-fashioned address book, empty water cups, several copies of Tokyo Sports, and balls of paper that were versions of his announcement. Every once in a while, something buzzes forlornly.

Privacy. His privacy. _So are you gay then._

"This is insane," Hamaguchi mutters. She's like the General in his samurai movie. Only angrier.

Kame wipes his face. His hand is cold. _Do you deny these allegations. What about your wife._ His armpits are soaked and his legs are twitching but in his head it's all so sharp, it could cut through glass.

"I'm sorry."

"After the circus last time, I thought you had your priorities _straight_."

"I'm sorry," he says. Again. "I apologize for the hassle. But you know how much of it was manufactured—"

"Yes, and we could have made _that_ go away!"

Kame refrains from pointing out the contradiction in her anger. "Anyway," he says. "It's done now." It's all done. No take-backs.

When the silence makes him look up, he finds her eyes hard and calculating. After hours of this, it's funny how it still makes his blood slump in his gut.

She flicks her head at her assistant, who rises and leaves soundlessly.

"How done is it?" she asks when the door is closed.

Well, as done as it can be when you refuse to say you're straight on national TV… "What do you mean?"

"This was today," she snaps. "Now you're going to tell me the rest. How much of it can still come back to bite us?"

"You want to know if you're better off ditching me after all?" He's shied away from the question all day. Just let it flutter around in his mind. It's an ugly, croaky one.

"I want to _know_ if there's going to be an eighteen-year-old underwear model crawling out of the woodwork and telling people how you bought him off with presents and a credit card."

Suddenly he's laughing. He doesn't mean to and she looks like she's seconds away from stabbing him with a letter opener. "Is that how it works?"

"I am serious."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Then his phone beeps, and they both start. Even Hamaguchi… "Sorry," he mumbles, and it could be anyone, Tanaka again or his mom or… it's Jin.

_I watched you. You were amazing._

Kame squeezes his eyes shut and laughs, again. The shame makes him choke whenever he thinks about it but Jin is still there, writing him messages, it's still real.

Someone… Hamaguchi has cleared her throat.

Right. And she had a question; a question that makes him feel sick.

But she worked with him on his statement and she's worked hard for his career, and she hasn't abandoned him yet. She's not wrong that she deserves to know.

"I saw men. For…" He exhales, embarrassed by how shuddering it sounds. "There was money involved. But there are legal protections in place. I don't think it came from there."

Hamaguchi looks him over. If the thought of sex for money disgusts her, it doesn't show on her face. "How do you know?" she asks, very slowly.

"Because if someone there had talked, they'd have better stuff than photoshop and pictures from a set." At some point during hour three of poring over the article, he realized that. It doesn't help with not knowing, but it was strangely reassuring nonetheless.

"And I'm seeing someone now. Someone… someone real. And I'll keep seeing him. He wouldn't hurt me."

"Oh gods, help me," Hamaguchi sighs, closing her eyes.

"Sorry."

It goes quiet. The sun is sinking behind the horizon, touching dust on glass with a shining orange. He clamps his hand around the phone in his pocket.

"What about your loving wife?" Hamaguchi asks with a sadistic edge. "Did you tell her all this, too?"

"Yes," Kame says. Now he's the one who looks away. "She knows."

*~*~*

"So was that always part of the plan?" Midori was pacing then, her hands restless, stopping, starting back up.

Kame sat still. Doing nothing, nothing extra, only answering what she wanted answered.

"When we were friends, and you saw that I _liked_ you…" Her voice, there was a lump in her throat but her eyes stayed dry, dry and watchful, and it was killing him. "Did you think, oh, how very handy, I can marry that one!"

And it hadn't been like that, not really he'd— "I…" He shook his head. "I liked you too, I thought… I thought maybe because I liked you I could, it could work. I wouldn't want…" He shrugged uncomfortably.

"Men," she said, just that word, and then she started pacing again, thinking, and Kame waited for the next awful question.

"How many?" fell into the silence thirty seconds later.

*~*~*

Kame jumps at the knock on the door. But it's just the assistant again, bringing coffee. Hamaguchi takes a cup, strong and black. Kame shakes his head, _thank you_ , he's had so much already he feels his skin smell of it.

The girl removes the empty water cups and candy bar wrappers from earlier. Nobody's been let in the building since he arrived; they're eating whatever they can chase up inside.

They stay there while it gets dark, while the news replays on TV and there are commentaries, 'expert' reactions, fan interviews in the streets. While Hamaguchi talks about strategy and projects and calling in favours. While she tells him how it's going to be from now, what he's going to do, and say, and how.

He nods obediently. He's done what needs doing, and now he can fall into the role of a meek man, a man who will take responsibility.

At eight, they send the junior janitor away.

Hamaguchi is standing by the blinds, watching the suspicious looking car with dark tinted windows leave the underground garage for a random tour of Uguisuidani, before he'll be taken home to Seibijou.

"Six following, I think," she remarks, drawing on her cigarette hard enough to make the lines around her mouth show. "That'll keep them busy."

Kame sits at the desk away from the window, jacket discarded and shirt sleeves rolled up, nibbling on a peanut bar donated by the web developer; a peanut bar which reminds him of Jin, reminds him that he's doing the right thing.

*~*~*

"I fell in love with one of them," he said to Midori. Then he wished he'd said it differently because he thought she flinched.

But all she said was, "How long?"

He took a breath. "We've been seeing each other since September. August. September." He wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. Whenever he fell in love, it wasn't then, but it wasn't this morning, either.

"And this. It's because of him?" By then she was sitting, stiff like he'd never seen her before. How pale she was scared him, but her wide eyes said he wasn't the one asking questions here.

"It's him, and the article, and… everything," he tried to sum it up. "I don't want to lie anymore."

She didn't flinch this time. She didn't even blink. "How very noble of you," she said. And then she stood. "Excuse me for a moment," she said, and walked out of the room.

*~*~*

It's Kame's turn around nine; two more cars with tinted windows leave the underground parking garage, and three ordinary Toyotas, and Kame is in the one with Hamaguchi's assistant at the wheel blaring Arashi on her speakers and her windows rolled down. Nobody can see him because he's in the trunk.

They get followed, of course they do. But they have a plan, and the assistant – Miki, her name's Miki – stops at a supermarket and goes in, just leaves him, and nobody would do that with a wanted film star in her trunk, right?

He tries not to feel too claustrophobic, and when she comes back fifteen minutes later and drives off, she calls the phone he's clutching and tells him that she can't see anybody following any more.

Another five minutes later, in the empty car park at the back of a toy store that closed at nine, she lets him out and he takes over on the wheel, wrapped up in the janitor's beanie and the web developer's scarf, and wearing sunglasses borrowed from the receptionist. He'll have to buy lots of people thank-you gifts.

Nothing suspicious happens on the half-hour drive to his apartment, and after thanking Miki-san and returning the various items of disguise to her, he can finally let himself in, and when the door is closed behind him he only has the energy to lean against it. Close his eyes. Breathe.

It's quiet. For the first time today, everything's quiet around him, quiet and empty. He savours it, loves it until it creeps into him and feels like loss, and he has to open his eyes quickly to reassure himself that there are two rice bowls on the counter, and two empty cups, from this morning. He won't always be alone.

*~*~*

"Did anyone know behind my back?" Midori was turning her empty teacup over and over in her hands.

He shook his head. "No." Then thought better of it. Thought long; too long, maybe, she was blinking suddenly like this was dangerous. "Tanaka," he whispered. "He knows about me."

She nodded, and whatever had welled up underneath disappeared again. "Did you ever bring him here?"

"Tanaka?"

"No, your—" Her voice dropped, to something harsher and brittle. "Your whore."

"No."

"But to the apartment?"

"Yes."

"So 'filming late', that was…"

"It was filming late. But it was also… convenient."

More nodding. Another thing on the list. Kame understood about lists and it made his throat tight and his eyes burn, but then he got it under control, didn't do that to her too.

"Did you use protection?" was next, sounding merely interested.

"Yes," Kame said quickly, "of course."

Her mouth pursed a little, like there was no 'of course' about it. And how could she know, after what he'd done, that he wouldn't put her at risk. Would care about her at all.

"I'm really sorry," Kame repeated.

"So you've said."

*~*~*

He hopes Jin isn't sorry. Things happened fast this morning, for both of them. Now Jin's had a day to think.

Last night he sat here just like this, with the blinds down and questions swirling round his head, not even the cat dropping by and wanting things from him.

Different questions, though. Everything is different now.

His fingers itch towards the phone, but Jin is at work, and he can't… Jin's phone will be turned off. He doesn't know when he can call.

Everything is silent around him and he has too much time to think, Jin has had too much time to think, Kame doesn't know what will happen.

It's been such a long day. He can't bear the thought that Jin might think better of wanting a crazy guy in his life, it's too much, after everything.

He could leave voice-mail.

But maybe that would be pressure, maybe that would be demanding. He reads Jin's emails again instead, both of them. They still don't sound like someone changing his mind.

His phone rings while he's holding it and there's a pathetic little sound he makes, when he thought he had himself under control.

It's Hamaguchi. Wanting to make sure, she says, that he didn't suffocate in the trunk of Miki-san's car, and not sounding like she found the possibility truly distressing.

*~*~*

"I think you should leave now," Midori said, after the questions had died and the silence became stifling. "I assume you have things to do at your agency."

"I… yes. The announcement. Press conference."

"Of course," she said, and she would know what it meant, what could happen next, but there was no satisfaction in her voice. Nor did she wish him luck.

They were already standing when she asked, "How much will you tell your parents?"

"Most of it. I told mom on the phone. Almost everything. Why?"

"So I know where to tread carefully."

He shook his head. "You don't owe me that."

"No, I don't owe _you_ anything, but I owe them. I don't want to hurt them because you're— because of what you did."

"Okay," he said. "There's one... I didn't tell them how I met…"

"Yes." Her lips tightened. "I can see why you wouldn't."

"Thank you." Less on his own behalf but he was grateful, all the same.

"What's his name?" she said, with that calm stare again, the one that would follow him around more than any rage.

"Jin," he said, and felt himself blushing. "His name is Jin."

She didn't say anything then but she seemed tired, suddenly, and small.

His fault.

"Will you call somebody?" he blurted out. "It's, you shouldn't be alone…"

"I don't think you get to be concerned about me," she pointed out, and then she stood there like the best thing he could do was to get out of her house, and her life, and so finally he did.

*~*~*

It could have been worse.

Eventually Kame moves to the kitchen table and tries to deal with mail, the things he'd do on a normal night. But what he ends up with is a messy pile of papers and words that are fuzzy and incomprehensible.

The press conference went well. The agency didn't drop him. His parents don't hate him. Morioka asked how he was. He has a boyfriend.

It could still get worse.

Looking around makes him think of the house, and Midori all alone. Maybe it's right that he's here and Jin isn't.

Jin said it was okay to call. But Jin is at work.

He wants Jin near him so badly it hurts. But there's something indecent about imagining the warmth, cuddling up to his boyfriend while he left Midori… how he left her.

It was strange and sobering, to tell her everything, hear the story come out of his mouth bit by bit, and realize that none of the little rules he'd kept to try and be fair to her had made him hurt her any less.

So he can deal with being alone, and maybe Jin will send him another email after work, and if he doesn't, Kame won't think about the possibilities, not now.

Except they're playing behind his eyes, the morning so rushed and fast and Jin having no time to think. He knows all the ways it would be reasonable for Jin not to want this, and everything is silent here, except in his head.

 

### *~*~*

Yamatani lets him stay until ten, until it's his customary time to go. There's even a little apology in his smile when he takes his leave, but Jin is much better now and grateful.

"Until tomorrow, then," he says, and they agree they're both looking forward to it. Then he's alone.

The mood in the lounge is still muted, though now and then people disappear, there's work going around. Maybe a Tuesday's worth. Yuu-chan has left again. Danny and three other escorts are camped out with the one cheerful client in the place. The bartender is hanging around in the corner, chatting with one of the waiters.

Jin drifts around the tables and makes sure to keep a smile on his face and his brain shut off, it makes him more attractive. Around eleven he gives some guy from the stock market a totally uninspired blow job, and doesn't care one bit until he's back on the whore floor and thinks, okay, that was work, and now he can go home.

He catches Jaejoong in the break room, with the same sort of frustrated face everyone else is wearing, but Jaejoong is going to give it one last try.

Jin's not. He doesn't even shower or change, just grabs his coat and his stuff, and gets a move on. He'll try to call Kame from home; Kame won't be asleep yet.

The streets are busy. Friday night; some people are only just coming out to go clubbing, young people with normal lives. The evening newspaper editions are full of Kame now and when he walks past people waiting in line at bus stops, he thinks he can hear the name.

He's halfway to the subway when his phone rings. Kame.

"Hey," he says, "how are you doing?"

"Oh, hey!" Kame seems a bit flustered. "I didn't think I'd get through, I was just… I was going to leave voice-mail."

"Um," Jin says. "No, I'm here. I'm on my way home."

"Oh, that's good."

There's a weird little pause. Jin wishes he could see Kame's face.

"How are you?" he tries again, and this time he gets a tired laugh.

"Exhausted. But I'm okay. Just… you know. Lots of stuff. You saw the thing."

"The thing was amazing," Jin says. "Totally amazing."

"I guess that's one word for it," Kame says, and he sounds giddy. Tired and giddy and out of it.

"Have you been drinking?" Jin asks before he can even censor himself.

"Hmm," Kame says in his ear, and it's a low 'hmm', thoughtful and way too sexy. "You think I should?"

"Not while you're by yourself." He seems unstable enough as it is.

"Oh." Even the pout sounds weird now.

"I just don't think…" He's not sure when he started talking to Kame in 'should's. One crazy day of being boyfriends. "Do you want me to come over?"

Another weird little pause, and then Kame's voice isn't low at all, or sexy, just lost. "Would you?"

As if there could be any doubt. "I'll be as fast as I can," he says, and on second thought, "Do you know… is it safe? With the press and all." He doesn't know how this works.

"No," Kame says, "they haven't found the love nest. There was a thing with the car… it was crazy…"

Jin waits for a moment, not sure if there's more, if Kame has gone to sleep.

"Sorry," Kame says, in that exhausted voice again. "Story for later. It's safe. Please come?"

"I will," Jin says. "I'm on my way."

They ring off. And Jin's not on his way, because he's thinking again, because he's dressed like a high-class whore, in a suit Kame hasn't seen in months because they don't do that anymore, a suit that makes him look like he's for other people.

Maybe tonight's not a night Kame needs the reminder.

He turns and walks fast.

Jaejoong is gone, but Yuuya and Takahisa are in the break room. Jin says hi and goes straight for his locker. It's normal to forget stuff.

Sometimes he's got a change of clothes there, but not tonight. He should have a gym shirt, he remembers, but when he digs it out of the heap at the bottom it's damp and smelly because he forgot to wash it.

Damn.

"Looking for something?" Yuu-chan, sounding very light.

Jin throws a brief glance over his shoulder. "Just clothes," he says. "I have to change."

"Oh, you have another date?" Yuuya says, delighted like when clients say something that's not totally boring. "Congratulations. On a slow day like this."

Jin turns, the useless t-shirt still in his hands. Yuuya is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His smile is determined and economical.

"I have to go somewhere," Jin says. "Not a date. And I can't look like a whore. Okay?"

Yuuya gives him a very long look, before he says, "Sure!" Tags another one of those smiles on.

Jin turns back to his locker, ignoring the twist in his stomach. They'll be okay. They'll have a quiet talk sometime, and Jin will explain about Kame, how kind and cute and dorky he is and what Yuu-chan remembers was just—

Right. That'll totally work.

He hears Takahisa get up and leave, and stares at the hanger bar in growing despair. He's got some more club shirts. _Those_ are clean. He's just wondering if maybe the green one looks less whorey than the others when something soft hits the back of his head, flapping around his face and into his eyes.

What the… Jin yanks it off his shoulders, it's… light blue, with a pastel rainbow print of some kind.

"It's clean," Yuuya says, closing his locker firmly. "That should work even if you keep the pants on." He gives Jin a cool look, like Jin just asked for further services without paying extra.

Then the door opens and it's Jun and Satoshi, greeting them with short nods. Satoshi is exasperated over something.

With no nosy questions forthcoming, Jin starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Thanks," he says quietly. "Thanks, I really appreciate it, you have no idea."

"I wish I didn't," Yuuya mutters, but there's a reluctant grin when he sees Jin decked out in soft baby colours.

"Cute," Jun comments, and Jin blushes and stuffs his club shirt in with the gym clothes.

"You out of luck too?" Yuuya asks them, returning to the theme of the evening.

"I had one," Jun says. Jin picks his jacket back up from where he dropped it. It's still pretty fancy.

"Mine couldn't get it up." Satoshi is opening a can of coke in as grumpy a way as you can open a can of coke. "I had him in my mouth for like an hour and nothing fucking happened."

"That sucks," Yuuya says, and laughs at his own joke.

Jin examines himself in the mirror. The rainbow… well, it helps, he doesn't look like a whore. He looks like a guy wearing a baby-blue rainbow t-shirt under a hundred-thousand-yen suit.

Kame will know exactly what he is trying to do. Maybe if he leaves the jacket, just takes the coat and ignores the cold, it might work.

"Hey guys," Yuuya says, cutting into the bitching on the sofa. "Jin needs to go somewhere incognito. Anyone got a civilian jacket he could wear?"

Satoshi shakes his head. "I doubt mine would fit anyway."

Jun looks at Yuuya.

"It's okay, guys, it's not that important." Jin doesn't want to inconvenience everybody, and he's got to be going, and he'll be okay with the coat, and now Jun is looking at him.

"Wait," he says, and rises from the couch in that way he has that gets _noticed_. "I may have something. Here." He pulls something out of his locker that is beige and a little coarse, with really expensive wrinkles. A sports jacket.

"Doesn't go with the pants, but…"

"Can I have it?" Jin says quickly. This is so much better than his suit. "Just for tonight, I mean. And tomorrow."

Jun tosses it at him. "It's Linea Rossa," he says, "so do it justice." But he's grinning.

"Thanks," Jin says, and "thanks," again, to Yuuya. The rainbow peeks up from his chest, but the jacket feels warm and comfortable and will fit under the coat. "Thanks."

He takes the time to hang his own jacket up properly, but then he's into his coat, scoops his things together, and says more thanks and goodbyes and is out the door.

"Hey. Jin."

He turns.

Yuuya's followed him out. The door is closing softly behind him.

It's quiet out here, and Yuuya's face is hard to read, when he's ditched all cuteness like that.

What now?

"You're wearing my t-shirt," Yuuya says.

"Uh," Jin says. "Yeah. You lent it to me."

"Yeah. And I didn't lend it to you so you could let him kick you around. You get that?"

"He's not—" Jin stops. This isn't the time. "Okay," he says. No making Yuuya regret the t-shirt. "I promise."

*~*~*

He still feels watched, doesn't know if a reporter would hide behind the bushes, on the other side of the street. That's why he lets himself in through the gate; he could be visiting anybody, could be living here. Then he sprints up the stairs and knocks on Kame's door.

Kame breaks into a weak, grateful smile when he opens the door, even though they just talked half an hour ago.

"I let myself in downstairs," Jin says, and he closes the door quickly. "I was trying to be, um, smart."

The smile stays, turns a little twisted. "I'm so glad you came."

"I'm really glad you called."

Kame nods, standing there like he missed an appointment, and so Jin doesn't wait, just wraps his arms around him. For a moment Kame just sways there – stiff and breathless, and Jin wonders if this was wrong – but then, carefully, Kame drops his head on Jin's shoulder, sinks against him.

Okay. Better.

Kame's arms go around him, making fists at the small of Jin's back, and Kame seems to shrink with all the air leaving him, all the strength.

"You were really amazing," Jin whispers into his hair. Maybe the strength went into him, maybe that's why he feels like they'll be all right now, it'll all work out somehow.

Kame is shaking his head against Jin's chest. "Don't."

Jin grimaces. Okay, maybe not so amazing, with the wife and the lying and all that. But he keeps holding on, as tightly as he dares, he needs to know Kame is okay.

"I missed you," he says instead, and this time Kame nods.

"I was thinking about you," Kame says. "So much." And there's more he's not saying, but it's there in his touch, and it's okay.

Then Kame stiffens again. He gets back his balance, leans back with a little sniffle. "That's a… that's a nice print," he says, his face a focused frown. His hands take a moment to unclench from Jun's jacket.

"Well, you know," Jin says. "It's cheerful?"

Kame hm-hms that, traces some corner of the rainbow while his eyes are still focusing. "I thought you might change your mind…"

It's the dying tone that lets Jin get the turn. "You being stupid again?"

"Well." Kame laughs. "I wouldn't blame you. Nobody in the world would. I fucked up so much with you."

Jin is pretty sure that Kame's genkan after the second most horrible day of Kame's life aren't the time and place to be doing stress malfunction analysis, so he nudges Kame. "Could have fucked up more," he says. "All that potential."

Kame laughs again. "I don't know…"

"You got it together when it mattered," Jin says. "We're good. Think you can let me in?" He actually turns to lock the door because Kame seems all out of the essentials, and then they finally move inside.

There's a water glass on the counter. The blinds are down, the corners dimmer than usual; the kitchen and the couch are little islands of light.

"Still want a drink?" he asks, trying to be a little light-hearted, but Kame just frowns more.

"What?"

"Because of the… never mind."

"Oh." Kame nods, gesturing at the kitchen counter. "Yeah, I was… following your advice."

"Good," Jin says, more cheerfully than he feels. "It was good advice."

Kame slips him a tiny smile. "Can I get you anything?"

Jin left all his drinks with other guys untouched, after the beers with Yamatani. He's okay with another one. "I'll have beer, if you have any."

When they're settled on the couch, he says, "I want to know how it all went. But if you need a break from it all, that's okay, I'll wait."

Kame shakes his head. "Been waiting to tell you. I mean, if you don't mind hearing. Some of it's… I don't know if you want to know. Like, about my wife…"

"I want to know everything," Jin says. "Everything you don't mind telling."

"I wish I'd trusted her," Kame says. "Trusted her, not married her, I wish…" He stares ahead. "She's such a nice person."

Jin just nods.

"Once she knew everything, she didn't want to stay married either."

"Everything?"

Kame nods, and tells him about questions, lots of questions, so many details she wanted to know. It's jumbled and sore, but Kame turns calmer as it goes on, even as Jin winces with second-hand guilt towards a nice woman who had to ask if her husband had found sex with her distasteful.

"I told her your name," Kame says at the end. "Just— your first name. I'm sorry. But she asked and I just couldn't… she was standing there, after all this time, and there's— escorts and Souji and what I did… I'm sorry."

Jin wants to touch him. Hold his hand, hug him, something. But Kame is all tense, his arms held in close so they don't interfere with the world. Jin's seen that before.

"It's okay," he says. So she knows his name. He's her husband's boyfriend. "I guess… that's just fair."

Kame's smile twists, his eyes shutting funny for a moment, but then he just has a drink. "Yeah, maybe."

For a while it's quiet. Jin thinks he should ask, Kame wants him to know, he just got stuck.

Kame sighs in a shudder. "She was very quiet," he says. "Do you know we never really had fights? She was… she was quiet."

"But she's not going to use it against you?"

"No. I told you. She's nice." Kame stares down into his drink, like there's something else he's thinking of. He shrugs a little. "She agreed to a fast divorce, too, that's— so helpful. For me. To get it over with."

Right. Jin feels kind of bad. "She sounds like I'd have liked her."

"Yeah," Kame laughs miserably. "You would have."

Jin still wants to touch him, and still keeps his hands to himself. He has to clear his throat. "What did your agent say about the divorce?"

This time Kame giggles. "A lot. She said a lot. She wanted to kill me when I said I wanted to announce it today."

"What did she want you to do? Besides… you know."

"Never get caught?" Kame is shaking his head without looking at Jin. "She asked me to keep it low, ask Midori to stick it out for the rest of the year, let things settle."

"And?"

"I told her I was willing to wait two weeks, and then she'd get it all in the news again. Or we could do it now."

He sounds much tougher than he looks. Jin pictures him holding his ground and wishes he'd been there with him, even if that would hardly have helped. He remembers voodoo dolls.

"Thank you for that e-mail, by the way," he says. "That was nice."

Kame blinks, needs a moment. "Oh. You're welcome."

Jin rolls his eyes and has another sip of beer.

"How was… how was your day?" Kame asks, like he's just remembered he should be a good host, and they stare at each other and suddenly they're both laughing, and Jin doesn't even know why.

"My day was fine," Jin says at the end, nudging Kame with his knee, hoping that's allowed. "Have you eaten?"

"If we'd opened the door for a delivery guy, the press would have stormed it," Kame admits. "We had biscuits and rice crackers. I got the web developer's peanut bar."

"Right. I'll make you some food."

Kame's freezer is full, as Jin expected. And there are the usual low-fat low-anything chicken things with steamed vegetables, and Jin's okay with that, but for Kame he digs around until he finds the closest he can get to comfort food, a rice dish with smoked eel and egg.

Kame is watching him from the couch. He's hugging his knees, seems small. "I'm glad you're here," he says.

Jin smiles; his face feels all reluctant. "At least you'll eat," he says. The microwave is turning a meal almost silently behind him.

"I didn't know if I shouldn't be alone…" Kame is blinking ahead, eyes wide open, and still he looks half asleep.

Jin thinks he gets it, but he doesn't ask, won't make this bigger than it already is in Kame's exhausted mind. He's here now, and he considers that a good thing.

They both jump when Kame's cell rings. Kame leans forward to get it off the coffee table and checks the number, says, "Sorry," to Jin, and sits up straight on the couch to answer.

"Yes, I'm still awake. Yes, I know." He listens for a minute, and Jin tries to read his face but it shows nothing.

"That was quick," Kame comments, and Jin can't tell if quick is good, or quick is bad, and Kame listens some more. Doesn't fidget, suddenly seems awake and very adult.

"No, don't fight them, just let it go," is what he says next. Jin's heart sinks. "We know there's no point."

More listening. A few times 'yes' and a few times 'no', and finally, "Yes, I know. Thank you so much. That's okay, yes. Maybe you should get some sleep, too."

He presses the button and weighs the phone in his hand for a moment before carefully laying it down. Then he catches Jin looking at him, gives him a faint smile.

"It's starting."

He doesn't move, doesn't relax back into the seat, but suddenly the focus is gone again, the thoughts drawing in.

"Hamaguchi had a call from the people I model suits for. Modelled."

Jin doesn't know what to say.

"I thought I'd lose the shaving ad first," Kame says randomly. "Maybe they couldn't get enough execs together to make a decision tonight."

Right.

"The suit guys, they dropped you because you're gay?"

"They dropped me because I don't fit the image they want to portray," Kame says, sounding like he's reading off an internal script.

"Oh," Jin says. It's horrible to feel so helpless, with people being so _stupid_.

So they just sit there and Jin doesn't know what else to say, until he remembers. "Are you… your food. You should really eat…" Jin's own appetite is on its way out but he'll pick at a few beansprouts if he can make Kame eat.

"Yeah. Yeah, I should. Thank you," Kame says, and he no longer sounds fake, just glad Jin is doing stuff. "I will."

He starts slow, but suddenly he's eating like a guy who hasn't been fed in three days, and Jin stays silent, doesn't want to interrupt. In the end, he steals some chicken slices from Jin's plate.

"I had some nice calls, too," he says. "A couple of people from my teacher movie. One of them was mentioned in the article."

"That's great," Jin says, and it's amazing, how relieved he feels.

"And the director for the cook drama called to tell me he's expecting me to report for filming as scheduled tomorrow, which… was a big relief, actually. In fact, everyone who called me was very supportive." He makes a pained face. "I think the other calls will go to Hamaguchi. Tomorrow should be… interesting."

"What about your assassin movie?" Jin asks, and watches Kame's tongue flick over his lips.

"Well," Kame says lightly. "I guess we'll see."

Damn.

Kame stacks their plates and cutlery together, and for a moment he looks like he's about to proceed to clean-up. Jin quickly carries the dishes away, proud of himself when he can keep Kame from apologizing. On his way back he picks up another whisky for Kame and puts it in his hand.

They sit, with the sort of distance Kame seems to need, but together.

"My dad called me, too," Kame says, and he sounds drifty. "From his office." He looks at Jin with a light frown. "He works for a company that makes bottle caps, did you know that?"

Jin feels his hands go clammy, but he doesn't jump to conclusions, just shakes his head. "No. I didn't know that."

Kame nods like that's just what he assumed.

"Was it… was he okay?"

"I think so." Almost like Kame is trying to solve a puzzle, but then he breaks into a fuzzy smile. "My mother called him… and he called me. He told me not to worry. You know, about him, about mom. That they'll support me."

"That's really nice of him," Jin says. "That's a big relief."

"Yeah." Kame fondles his whisky glass, turns it slowly in his hand. "And they know everything. I mean… even about escorts. I told her and she told him, and… they know. They know the worst of it." He looks amazed, almost happy.

Jin drinks his beer and tries to squash the unworthy jealous sting that not all parents are like that. But he's glad, so glad for Kame.

"The only thing I didn't say was about you. Your job. That we met… I thought that might be easier, later. You know?"

Jin nods automatically before it really sinks in. Later. The parents.

"And I didn't tell Tanaka that you're my boyfriend yet," Kame says, and the giddy smile is returning. "I'd like to, if you don't mind, but he thought I was crazy anyway, I thought I'd go easy on him. Sort of easy."

"He called too?"

"Twice," Kame says. "Once before and once after. Called me all sorts of things, and I thought if I mentioned— oh." Suddenly he sits up straight. "Shit. Wait. Don't say anything."

Jin blinks. _Okay_ , he nods.

"This has nothing to do with today," Kame says, waving his hand like he's trying to wipe the topic from the air. "And I am an idiot. I meant to talk to you before, but we got sidetracked, and this morning I forgot. God." He shakes his head, and then he leans forward, suddenly intense. "And this is hypothetical, okay?"

"Hypothetical."

"Really hypothetical," Kame nods. "Just. If there was ever a chance to make a career as a singer." He's licking his lips again, slowing down like he's thinking about every word. "Not a huge pop star, but just… a normal living, would you be interested in that? Would you like that?"

That's… Jin doesn't think Kame knows much about the music industry, really. "I don't think it's that easy to make a living with music."

"I mean at the level of already having a record deal."

Jin blinks at him with a surreal feeling. It's not exactly nice. "I guess… I'd have to think about it? I don't know how much good that— I mean, it would be awesome, but I can't take those kinds of risks. You know?"

"Yes, but… if it weren't that risky?" Kame insists. "Hypothetically."

"I'd have to think about it," Jin says again, shrugs. "Talk to someone, maybe. Who knows stuff. How it all—" He falls silent as he finally remembers how they got here. "You want me to talk to Tanaka-san? About a music job?"

"Right now," Kame says, "I'm just trying to find out if you'd even _like_ it, if you didn't have to worry about stability."

"Sure," Jin says, and he laughs a little. "I'm sure I'd like it. Hypothetically. But I do have to worry about stability."

"Okay," Kame says, and he seems illogically pleased. "Noted." He thinks to himself for a moment, looking less stressed than he has all day.

That's good, Jin figures, and Kame kicking ideas around is also good, Jin doesn't mind. He's just not going to dwell on those sorts of hopes.

"I don't mind if you tell him about us," he says when he remembers that too. "You can tell anybody you like. I want to tell Tomo. I didn't do that today, either, but…"

Kame starts to look stressed again, but he says, "Of course."

"And the other escorts will probably find out anyway. The place is one big gossip network. But they have confidentiality clauses, and we do tend to keep stuff from the clients."

That thought gives him the shivers; the clients knowing, trying to fuck him when they know.

"And I have to talk to Ootomo tomorrow," he adds. "About us. I have to be above board, I don't want him thinking there's any weird shit going on."

"It'll be okay, won't it?" Kame says a little anxiously.

"Some of the other guys have boyfriends too," Jin says, confident because he's been working on his arguments all day. "Or girlfriends. Just because you've been a client, doesn't mean it should work differently." Even this has happened before – only Tsubasa is no longer at the club. There must be rules for this sort of thing. They have rules for everything.

"I should probably speak to him too," Kame says.

Jin nods. "I think he'd call you to confirm, anyway. Main thing he'll worry about is that you're still giving me money."

"I won't," Kame says, like a promise.

"I'm really glad," Jin says, knowing just how mad that sounds and not caring one bit.

*~*~*

They go to bed, though they take their drinks and Kame takes his phone. The day's not over. Jin thought Kame would maybe let him in, a little closer, but Kame is sitting contained and careful, as if there's some risk he'd run if they got any closer than talking.

"I have to get up early tomorrow," Jin says, lying on his side, just keeping an eye on things. "Um, today."

"Hmm," Kame says fuzzily. "How early's early? I have work too."

"Nine?"

Kame laughs. "That's terrible. I'll leave breakfast on the table for you then when I leave at eight." He smiles to himself and then he yawns, as if laughing has taken the last energy he had. "Why so early?"

"Tomo found an apartment for me to look at. You know how I meant to look for something cheaper. He says this one looks really good."

"Hm." Kame doesn't meet his eyes, is sort of checking out the room. "I guess it would be a bit too hasty…" He gestures hesitantly with his drink.

Jin loves the apartment, loves being here with Kame. But beyond thinking a lot about Kame today, Jin's also thought a lot about the sorts of mistakes he doesn't want to make. "Yeah," he admits. "And I want to have a place. That I pay for." He swallows, because he feels like a wimp, but Kame should know that too. "It makes me feel safe."

"Yeah, I get that," Kame says, which is cute because he probably doesn't, not like Jin means it, but that earnest drop-dead-tired look is still… cute. Jin wants to pull the blanket up and tuck him in properly, make sure he sleeps at some point.

Then Kame's phone beeps, and he picks it up to check it. Jin bites his lip and tries not to watch too tensely.

Sounds like the agent is still in the office. Jin stretches out under the blanket, focusing on walls and books and other stuff. Kame sounds calm and appreciative, and like there are no further catastrophes. Apparently the agent is finally going home now; Kame wishes her a good night.

Then it goes quiet, just them in the dimmed light. Jin doesn't press him for an update on the agency stuff. He can sit here all night, with Kame.

They're together. It bubbles up suddenly and fiercely, and if he cared at all about not looking like a sap, he'd hide his face.

Kame is studying his drink again. "So… how's all this going to work? Have you thought about it yet?"

He has. He's had all day, to try to figure it out. But Kame is about to fall asleep, sitting upright with his drink in his hand, and for tonight, it can wait.

"A little," he says, and takes the glass away from him. "But let's talk about it over breakfast, okay?"

Kame smiles a slow smile. "I'm leaving before you," he reminds Jin.

"Wake me up," Jin says. "I want to have breakfast with you."

~

_Chapter 51 to follow 23/02/2012_


	51. Chapter 51

### Saturday 14 March 14:05

It's a creaky little elevator, with sickly green metal panelling and worn buttons, but scrubbed clean all the way into the corners. Jin is wearing his most harmless fixed smile and ignoring the rose perfume filling the air.

The landlady is wiping at the deformed cats scratched into the metal next to the buttons with her very white handkerchief. "That was those children from downstairs," she says apologetically. Jin's not sure the lines get any softer from a handkerchief but he just nods and smiles and concentrates on looking very respectable.

"I hope they're not still giving you grief, Kuwabara-san," Tomo says, which makes her smile turn shiny and fluttery.

"Oh, they've grown all out of that now," she says and tucks the cloth back into her bag. "This is a very quiet house."

Jin nods. And smiles. He hasn't slept enough.

The apartment is on the fourth floor again. He decides to take it as a good sign. "Here we are," Kuwabara-san announces in a bright busy voice.

The floor smells of old linoleum, but there are a few pictures on the walls, of waves and bonsai trees. Jin counts three doors.

The empty apartment is on the far left – good for noise, bad for heat, Jin thinks automatically. When the door swings open, it's on a tiny, immaculately clean room, which is empty except for a small beige kitchen unit along one wall. A slice of sunshine is just starting to creep in through the window.

Afternoon sun. Nice.

"Please, do step in," the landlady says, so they kick off their shoes and wander inside.

"We had the walls repainted and the floors cleaned by a special company after dear Tanaka-san departed." She's addressing herself to Tomo, whom she clearly expects to know about dear Tanaka-san, and who nods with a smile.

"It's very nice," Jin says. The floor is a decent wood imitation, the kitchen unit plain and only a little old-fashioned. He can cross the room in five steps, but that's big enough. From the window, he has a view of a bus stop, a conbini, and a little park with a fountain.

"Yamashita-kun said you were looking for a quiet environment," Kuwabara-san says with a watchful little smile.

"Yes," Jin says instantly. "I work a lot so I rely on being able to sleep peacefully when I get home." Regular income, check. Quiet neighbour, check. She'll ask about his job now.

"Oh yes," she says brightly. "That's very important. There are many elderly people on this floor, and they used to get very upset when the families downstairs were noisy. What sort of work do you do?"

"I work as a waiter at the Park Hyatt." Plausible job, check; classy workplace, check. Tomo looks secretly satisfied. They practiced that in the bar on Thursday.

"Oh, so you must have to work late quite a lot?" Kuwabara-san asks sympathetically.

"Yes," Jin says, because there's no way around that. "Like Yamashita-kun, I guess." They both smile at her. She likes Yamashita-kun. "I can shower at work, though, which is very convenient." No late-night plumbing noises. Check.

"Ah, that's good, isn't it," she says, before she invites him to check the drawer and doors on the cupboard below the gleaming sink. Jin takes that as a good sign, too. He tries hard not to yawn when she explains the cooker was replaced just three years ago.

"This is a very pretty place," he says.

"The bathroom is over there," she says. "If you'd like to take a look."

They both look, Tomo just a step behind; it's tiny and spotless and in a horrible pastel yellow. There is even a small bath with a familiar-looking handrail.

"Not bad," Tomo mutters. "That's about the only thing that's larger than in yours." He smirks, too, probably at the colour.

"I like it," Jin says, and then they stand there, and Jin doesn't know what else to ask or inspect that wouldn't be too nosy. Not much more to look at, either.

"Now," Kuwabara-san says brightly, "I was going to check in on Yamada-san, she mentioned a little issue with her radiators, and my husband and I like to take care of things right away. So if you'd like to talk amongst yourselves for a moment… excuse me for a few." She gives them another warm smile, like she's sure they won't have anything bad to say about this apartment.

"Please give Yamada-san my regards," Tomo says with a little bow which is totally shameless and makes Kuwabara-san very happy.

"I bring her stuff, too," Tomo explains when the landlady has bustled away, leaving the door just ajar.

"I guessed," Jin grins. Tomo knows everybody.

Tomo is inspecting the windows, wrinkling his nose when the handle of the left needs a bit more pull. "So, what do you think?" he asks in a lowered voice.

"I like it," Jin repeats; shrugs. "It's local, it's clean. Nice bonsai pictures."

Tomo laughs. "Yeah. You shouldn't pay more than two months' rent in key money, by the way."

Jin is glad for the advice, though he's not sure he's got much negotiating skill. And he really does like the place. "I'll have to buy furniture, too."

"Yeah." Tomo sticks his hands in his pockets, tapping the floor; it cushions the noise. "I saw your guy on TV yesterday."

Jin's guy. Jin has to smile. Tomo doesn't know yet how right he is.

"Yeah," he says. "I guess it was hard to miss."

"So his wife's ditched him?" Tomo seems curious. Not sympathetic, but at least he doesn't look like he wants to add 'serves him right' or anything like that. "That was pretty quick, wasn't it."

Jin turns and leans against the windowsill, so he can have the door in view. "He's found himself a boyfriend," he says quietly. He lasts for about three seconds before he breaks into a grin.

"Boyfriend." Tomo is staring at him, and Jin can't stop grinning. "You're not…"

"I am," Jin says. "But don't tell anybody."

Tomo's stare turns into a frown. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Pretty sure. I'm not being stupid, okay? I mean, here I am looking for an apartment. And he's left his wife."

"So… he'll pay for this?" Tomo gives a little wave around the empty apartment. "What if he suddenly… stops?"

 _Dumps you_ , Jin can read into the pauses of that.

"I pay for it. I have a job."

"What job— you're not keeping that job?" Tomo hisses under his breath. Now they're both watching the door like hawks. "You hate it."

"It's the only one I have. It makes me money. Money to pay for my own apartment."

Kame saw the point of that, over a fragile cup of coffee this morning. Jin's glad he didn't have to fight about it more.

"And he _lets_ you?"

"Not his decision to make," Jin says. It sounds harsh, like that, but, well. Can't be helped. He shoves his hands in his pockets, too. His nice black Kame jacket. "I can't just drop everything. I've been stupid over a guy before. Didn't end well."

There are voices in the hallway, the two women saying polite goodbyes. Tomo is weighing this and that in his head, looking conflicted.

"What if anybody finds out?" he asks then. "Doesn't he worry about that? I mean, it's bad enough now, but if people know he's dating an escort…"

"They won't find out," Jin says. "All the people who know are under some sort of confidentiality rule, except one."

"You just told _me_."

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying." Jin nudges him just as the door starts to edge open again. "Don't pass it on."

####  ***~*~* 18:38**

Seven more hours.

Jin fidgets around on the barstool, willing his foot to stop twitching whenever he takes his mind off it for a moment. He has a sip, makes a face; catches Jiro's sympathetic look, _Weird night for everyone._

He's getting really sick of the taste of coffee. Kame takes his with three sugars, and Jin's starting to consider it. Second cup from the bar, sixth one since this morning with Kame, and it's not helping anymore.

Seven more hours of this. The night's barely started.

He scans the thin crowd; people are just trickling in. No use being in a hurry, he's got Yamatani later, and right now he's waiting. But he'll try harder today.

He just hopes he won't fall asleep with some guy trying to get his dick into places. That could turn awkward.

The TV screen above the bar is off again today, but he still catches Kame's name in conversations here and there. He's staying out of them. He'll find something fascinating to say about motorsports. Or the cherry blossom season.

He stops his foot twitching again. He needs more coffee, and he also has to pee.

The phone at the concierge desk rings and the duty concierge answers. It's brief; Jin only notices because he's been watching. The guy hangs up and then heads towards him. Right.

"Ootomo-san will see you now."

Jin nods, professionally cool. "Thanks."

He gulps down the rest of the coffee, stops by the toilet on the way. It's only in the elevator that his legs go a little wobbly, and it's probably not the caffeine.

But he's rehearsed this.

The room is about three degrees above freezing as usual, and Jin resists the urge to stuff his hands in his trouser pockets. Ootomo's shirt is short-sleeved, with a swirl of green leaves and yellow parrots. He's hung the respectable jacket for clients up in a corner.

"Thank you for seeing me so quickly," Jin says. Only made him wait half an hour. Ootomo grunts and waves him to sit.

"About Kamenashi, you said?" There's a put-upon sigh. "I hope there's not _more_ now. We didn't need this." Jin's guess is the club didn't do too well last night either.

He doesn't point out that Kame needed it even less. It's not what he's here for.

"So what's it about him now? He hasn't contacted us…" There's a bit of an implication in Ootomo's look that if it was important, surely Kamenashi-sama would have spoken to management, not to his whore of the day, but Jin doesn't care about that, either.

"He'll call you tomorrow," he says instead. "He just wanted to give me a chance to talk to you first."

Now Ootomo's look grows wary. "Talk… well, here you are. So what do you have to talk to me about?"

"Kamenashi-san and I have agreed that we want to have a private relationship, not a professional one. We are going to be boyfriends."

Ootomo studies him owlishly for a while. Then he shakes himself. "Oh boy."

Jin sits very straight and very tight. Look confident and respectful, just like with the landlady. At least he's awake again.

"So I thought I should inform you that Kamenashi-san and I won't be having club dates any more and no money will change hands."

That dumbfounded look really isn't good on him. Eventually he's leaning back in his chair, very slowly. "How much is he giving you, boy?"

"I told you…"

"Just expenses? Allowance? It's no crime to quit," Ootomo says, though he looks nothing like it. "I'm just curious."

Jin catches himself licking his lips. He's fidgeting again. "I'm not quitting. I mean, I don't want to." And suddenly his mouth is dry because for all that he told Kame and Tomo, if he gets fired the whole thing about being safe and independent is kind of moot. He tries a smile, for confidence, but stops when it doesn't come out right. "I just want to have a boyfriend. Like… there's other people here. With boyfriends."

Ootomo is digesting that. It's a longer process. "And you're asking me to believe…" He's staring so hard Jin thinks he might need eye drops. Then he wipes his hand over his face. "Right. It's you. Never mind."

Jin's not sure what that means, but Ootomo's frown has turned into the usual management hassle annoyance, and the relief is like little cool trickles down his back.

"All right," Ootomo huffs. "So we'll enjoy your company for a while longer. Good to know you haven't gone completely insane."

Yeah. He's glad he's got the Ootomo seal of approval for his life plans.

"Pays to be cautious," Ootomo adds, scratching his gel-slicked hair. "Not everybody's a Takizawa, you know?"

"No," Jin says tamely, and resigns himself to the fact that he's going to hear about _that_ story a lot from now. But if it helps Ootomo relax, whatever.

"So. If you want to drop your best client, that's your choice."

"Yes." What do you say to that? "Thank you."

"But what goes for the others goes for you too," Ootomo reminds him. "I don't want you moping around on a Friday night and scampering home at nine because you want to cuddle with your boyfriend, understood?"

"Yes, of course." He stops himself from fidgeting again, makes himself focus because with every concession won, the fatigue is nipping at his concentration more. "I— I was wondering. If I could sometimes take one extra early night. During the week, when there's not much going on. Because…" Because Kame has a tight schedule, and Ootomo stopped caring about Kame's tight schedule the minute Kame stopped paying his employees for sex. Right. "You know. Um. Maybe Tuesdays."

Ootomo weighs that weightily. "Your money, your call," he concludes, with narrowed eyes. "Fine. _Occasionally_. Don't let it get out of hand."

"Thank you."

"But weekends, holidays, high traffic days, you're here, are we clear? And I don't want complaints from the clients that you can't get it up, either."

"Yes," Jin says. "I'll be there. And I'll totally get it up. I promise."

Ootomo frowns at him for another moment, but his lips are twitching weirdly. "Well," he says in the end, "you better get back down there, then. Find yourself some new regulars."

"Yes," Jin says readily. "I'll do that. Except, I mean, I have a comfort later, but in general. I'll do that."

Ootomo nods. "Get out of here."

Jin bows and bows again as he walks backwards towards the door.

"Oh," Ootomo says, "and go put some make-up on. You look like death warmed over. Tell your boyfriend he's not allowed to wear you out."

That, Jin thinks, probably counts as 'please convey my respects to Kamenashi-sama'.

"He's planning to call you tomorrow," Jin says politely. "No doubt he'll be grateful for any advice you can give him."

 

### Sunday 15 March

He's more awake on Sunday. Sleep's good, his own bed useful, even if he missed Kame. They talk on the phone a lot now. Well, call each other. Sometimes there are silences. But those are nice, too.

He sleeps past noon; talks to Kame, talks to the landlady, tells her he hasn't changed his mind. Then he goes to the club, where he gives Yuuya his shirt back, says hi to Yamatani, and fucks some fifty-something executive who likes to have his hair pulled. He even scores a relaxation after, and that feels good, second day in a row he didn't suck at his job, he's making the money he told Kame he has to make. He's pleased with himself when he decides he's done, shortly after eleven.

He calls Kame before he even showers, from outside behind the dumpsters with a cigarette, just in case Kame needs an early night. Kame picks up with a smile in his voice. "Hey there."

"Hi." God, he's so lame. But he's grinning from ear to ear. "How's it going? Any new developments since four thirty?" Kame was on a break from filming at four thirty.

"I played with fake jellyfish," Kame reports. "They felt weird." There's a pause. "And you?"

"All good," Jin says easily. "Jun fell over on the treadmill and has a giant shiner." He banked that one when it happened; it's useful.

Kame laughs. "Poor man."

"Yes, it's all very sad." He has a few quick puffs on the cigarette when he realizes he totally forgot about it. "So… you're at home? Getting some rest?"

"I got in two hours ago…" And there's another pause, and Jin is wondering, and then Kame asks first, "Would you like to come over?"

Jin's heart does a ridiculous little skip; they're boyfriends, it's not _unexpected_. But he stays calm. "I'd like that," he says. "But… I've been at work, right? You know that?"

He barely gets time to finish the sentence. "That's how it's going to be," Kame says, in the sort of upbeat voice that makes Jin instantly suspicious. "We knew that. So, might as well start, right?"

"Right."

"I've been at work, too. I want to see you. I'd rather see you after work than not at all."

Jin feels a silly grin on his face. It's working. They're working it out. "I'll be quick," he promises.

And so he ends up at Kame's in record time, shower and change and subway, at least he is smart enough to have spare clothes with him now.

Kame is waiting at the door. He looks wonderful.

"Hi," Jin says, and wonders again if touching will be okay today.

He has his answer ten seconds later, when Kame has locked the door and turned to him and slid his hands inside Jin's half-open coat and is pulling him close.

Okay! That is very good.

It's much easier to feel Kame, under the light shirt he's wearing where Jin has a thick sweater, and Jin has just started wondering how Kame might feel about kissing when Kame starts to nibble at his neck and chin with an unmistakable hint.

Kissing is very good, too.

Eventually, Kame breaks free again. "Would you like to take off your shoes and come in properly?" he says with a breathless smile.

He gives Jin space to get rid of the coat, and that's when Jin can see beyond him into the apartment, see that the dining table is cluttered with papers and that the couch table has on it an ice bucket with Champagne, two Champagne flutes and a candle.

He shoots Kame a glance.

"I thought… well, I know you get Champagne a lot, and I'm not even that keen on it but it seemed appropriate somehow," Kame says. "I hope you don't mind. You don't have to drink any if you've had enough booze, I haven't opened it yet just in case."

"I'd like some," Jin says. It fits.

When he gets there he drops himself on the couch and leaves the work to Kame. Kame seems to enjoy doing it. He's cautious when he opens the bottle, though, doesn't make a show of it. There's something sweet about the soft rush of the Champagne into their glasses.

"Not that you'll go and do that every time now," he says when Kame hands him one, which makes Kame laugh.

"No." Kame sits down very properly, focused, holding up the glass. That's when Jin decides to kiss him some more before they can even clink their glasses together. "Not every time," Kame breathes eventually, and then they sit back, and drink, some soft poppy music of Kame's tinkling on in the background.

"It would be weird if there was a fuss whenever I went to see my boyfriend," Jin says, feeling the Champagne drive colour into his face.

Kame nods wisely. "Yes, that would be weird."

It's odd to sit here and not be on a date. Not that Jin's complaining. Kame looks tired but so much better than on Friday, and he's wearing the red shirt Jin likes, and he likes Kame's hands, too, and if Jin's days weren't full of sex and he wanted to, he could reach for Kame, and it would just be that; what he wants, what Kame wants. Nothing else.

"What are you smiling about?" Kame asks, smiling right along but being nosy anyway.

"Hm," Jin says. "That we can do whatever we like now. You know, for real."

Kame raises an eyebrow. " _Now_?"

Jin laughs. "Maybe not now, now."

Kame looks highly amused as he lets himself sink comfortably against the backrest. "Later now, then."

"Now, now I should really shower," Jin says.

"Oh. You didn't get a chance?"

"I did!" Does Kame really think he'd come here without… "Just, I don't know, it's different." It's getting clean by layers. And he doesn't want Kame to feel the club on him, ever again.

Kame leans his head back; his eyes are low. "Yeah, I get that. I'll be here."

But when Jin gets up Kame grabs him by the arm and pulls him down for another kiss, all awkward with Jin standing and aware of club layers, and Kame ruffling his hair. "I'll be here very alone," he says with big eyes and a duck mouth, and Jin has to laugh.

"Poor sweet baby." But he hurries anyway.

There's more stuff in the bathroom. Not much; a larger bottle of Kame's shampoo, a plain little jewelry box, an electric toothbrush Jin's never seen. Kame said he'd gotten some things from the house.

He rinses off quickly with his usual settings. His boyfriend's place. Not a date, not a money deal. It still feels so new.

New enough that he's badly organized, he realizes after towelling off. He bought new jeans for after work, but they're not really comfortable when he's tired and scrubbed to a warm glow, and he feels a little ridiculous putting outside clothes back on with his hair out of order.

But that's the other thing. No doing his hair at midnight just because that's the rules. He combs it back a bit, he's pretty sure Kame likes his face that way too, and then he's out again and can rescue the poor turtle boy from crushing loneliness.

Turtle boy is sitting hunch-backed on the sofa, playing with the candle. Jin is almost surprised Kame didn't go back to dealing with the paper things on the table, they look messy enough to be urgent.

He pulls his fingers away from the candle when Jin comes closer, and smiles. "Hey. You look beautiful."

Jin makes a face. His jeans pull tight when he sits down. "I should have brought something more comfortable. Um. Not that I'll just hang around in sweatpants now."

"I have sweatpants," Kame says. "You want? You look beautiful in sweatpants, too. Nobody should have to dress up at home after nine at night."

"You should talk," Jin says, nudging Kame's Prada-clad knee as he sits back down, closer than before.

Kame hunches in a little more, then nudges him back. "I want to look nice for you too."

He could make a joke, easily. About clothes, or being naked. But somehow he doesn't want to.

"But, I was wondering," Kame says. "Things like sweatpants and… that lotion you use… do you want to leave some things here?"

Jin thinks. He doesn't have a double set of everything like Kame does for the house and the apartment— did. But it's a good thought. Practical. And sweet. "That might be useful."

"You could have some closet space?" Kame sounds doubtful, though, and Jin briefly pictures a wardrobe swollen with Kame's fashion acquisitions and exploding if Jin adds as much as a sock. "I mean, if you like. I don't know if that's too fast. I don't really know how this works."

Oh… right. Rules for boyfriends. Kame should know, at least he was married, but maybe that was different. "I don't know if it's fast," Jin says, with a slow shrug. "The last guy I liked, I ran away with him, so. I don't really know how this stuff works either."

Kame looks at him weirdly, almost worried, which is stupid because that's all in the past.

"Anyway, I'd like the space," Jin says. "And if we both like it, it should be okay, right?"

Kame smiles as if Jin said a really clever thing. "Yeah, that should be okay."

"I'll make you some space too," Jin says, feeling daring. "Like, half a drawer, given the size of the new place. But enough for some underwear."

"So… I get invited to your new place?"

Turtle boy, master of dumb questions. Jin thumps him. What else are you going to do with that. "Of course you're invited. Hey, you can help me move, too."

"Yes." The idea seems to make Kame surprisingly happy. He's gorgeous when he looks happy. "I can totally do that."

"You're a bit scrawny for a mover, but, hmmm. You've got those nice strong arms."

"My new career," Kame says with a little snort.

"Did you hear anything more?" Jin asks.

Kame's mouth twitches. "I kept the yoghurt ad."

The suits, the shaving thing… Jin doesn't like what his stomach is doing. "What about the assassin movie?"

Kame licks his lips, shakes his head. "The bright side is, I'll have more time with you."

"Shit." The bright side can wait. This wasn't meant to happen. Kame wanted that movie. Kame talked about it all the time and he was so excited…

Kame shrugs. "It wasn't really surprising. Nobody wants their production associated with an ongoing scandal. It'll be different in a year."

"Right." But in a year, it won't be that movie, it'll be… whatever.

But Kame knows that. So Jin doesn't say it, he just reaches for Kame's hand, and Kame presses back quietly.

"I guess there's some profound meaning in there somewhere. People of dubious moral standards, still able to promote healthy bacteria."

Jin's not interested in meanings. Those stupid fucking idiots and their stupid fucking ideas, it's all so… fucking stupid. "I'm so sorry," he says, feeling useless.

"It could have been worse," Kame says. "My agent hates my guts but she's half on her way to optimistic, just because I kept the drama."

Still. "I guess you were right to be worried about people finding out…"

Kame's eyes go wide, and he sits very still. His hand is lifeless in Jin's. "I…" But he shuts up, and just stares.

"I said _worry_. Not go paranoid ass on people," Jin admits.

"Yeah," Kame says. "Yeah, I know. Just… that, the things… if I didn't worry so much I'd never have… and all that before." Kame pulls back his hand, and he's all rigid and pale, and fuck no, they didn't need this.

But then Kame sighs, closing his eyes. "Sorry. I won't… I'll get it together."

"Do," Jin says. He doesn't like how this is going. He doesn't need more apologies.

"Maybe I had it coming," Kame says, apparently to the floor. "I've been wondering."

"What coming?" Jin says sharply. "Bigots being bigoted at you? All that hypocritical trash? Bet you half these producers buy handbags for schoolgirls, and you _deserve_ their shit?"

"No," Kame relents. "But… I…" He gives Jin a long, unfocused look, so uncertain it makes Jin reach out, pet him through the ridiculous Prada. Kame doesn't react to it. "I was such an ass. Worse. I did that… I wanted to hurt you. Just like that, just because I thought… and how could I even think… and even _if_ …" 

That again. It's pointless, and over. "Well, you weren't entirely with it," he says, and sees Kame open his mouth to protest. "And I wasn't afraid of you. Can you process this, please, somewhere in your stupid head?"

Kame blinks. "I… maybe?"

"And I was _right_ not to be, and now we have an agreement, and you're going to stick to it, and we're going to be _fine_ and once all those stupid people get over themselves, you're going to be a great sane film star and I'll fix cars and we're going to be very happy. Got it?"

Kame's look gets more focused. Searching… but what he finds seems to reassure him, and in the end he nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I got it." There's a bemused little smile, and finally Kame touches him back, with a hand that's all cold and sweaty. Jin squeezes it and doesn't let go.

"Oh, just…" Kame says then, thoughtfully, "…about the cars. I talked to Tanaka, and he'd like to talk to you."

"Hmm." Jin smiles a little; he's good at reasonable tonight. "Okay. Thank you." He draws little circles on the back of Kame's clammy hand. "Just, there's no pressure, right? About my job?"

Kame shakes his head very quickly. "No, honest. I promise. I talked to Ootomo too. So that's all… set."

Oh, right, that. "How did it go?"

"He seemed very reasonable, very polite. Understanding, almost."

Jin manages not to laugh. It's cool, though, it means no hassle. He nods. "Okay, great." And Kame has dropped the guilt trip, and they're planning for their future. It seems a good time to snuggle up closer. "So… Tanaka-san, how will this work, are you giving him my number? Should I write him a letter or something?"

Kame wraps his arm around him and almost unconsciously starts twirling some of Jin's hair around his fingers.

"I'd pass your number on, if that's all right with you."

"Yes, that's f—"

A clatter outside, too close, by the window, and they jerk apart, Kame's face pale, Jin's heart in his throat. _Journalists_ , is what he thinks, and next, _but the blinds are down_ , and then—

There's a creepy ghostly cry, and Kame sags together, blows out a long breath with puffed-up cheeks.

For fuck's sake.

"I'm going to kill her," Jin announces. "One day, when you run out of frozen chicken meals. There'll be a stirfry surprise."

Kame chokes a little laugh and pulls him closer, hugs him tight, so tight.

It's wonderful. Warmth spreading over the fright, and no rush and no urgency. Jin kisses Kame lightly, and when he draws his arms around Kame's shoulders it hits him again how this isn't a job, and he doesn't have to hide what he feels anymore.

The cat continues to make its cat noises outside in the dark, looking for food. It's starting to get to Jin a little.

Eventually he pushes himself off a bit. "I'll just see she's got enough meat on her by the time she hits your frying pan…"

"Hm?" Kame looks part asleep, part aroused. "Oh. She'll bite you."

"She'll know better," Jin says darkly. He stands and looks down at Kame. "And then we should maybe go to bed? It's late…"

Kame smiles, a brilliant smile. "Bed sounds good."

Jin takes first turn in the bathroom, and this time round, he notices that Kame has got him his own mug for his toothbrush – a plain white one with black music notation going around the top. It doesn't match anything else, and Jin smiles.

Music. Subliminal messages, or just because Kame knows what he likes. Either way, it's cute.

It's a different kind of new, to slip between the sheets this time and wait for Kame to finish in the bathroom. Friday was… there was too much stuff in their heads, they were too tired, too everything, and Kame was untouchable in his guilt. This is the real thing for the first time.

He wonders what Kame expects. That's one thing they haven't talked about yet – all that talking, and still stuff to clear up, not like anything can ever be easy.

Kame is damp and a little cool when he joins him, and Jin shudders before insisting nobly that boyfriends are for warming people up. Kame switches the light off and turns his nose into Jin's neck, dots kisses here and there and lets Jin play octopus.

Jin doesn't think he's hard. But he can't help wondering if he'd like to be. Isn't that what one does, first time in bed with a boyfriend? When one is normal?

Kame's hand starts moving, stroking gently down his side. Soothing, sweet. Not suggesting anything. Jin wonders if he's holding back, if he's thinking about Jin's job. Or if he's just enjoying this, just like Jin would be enjoying it if he could stop wondering so fucking much.

"What are you thinking about?" Kame says, and that's when he realizes he's been silent since they got into bed.

"Whoops, sorry," he says with a little smile.

"It's okay," Kame says. "Just wondering what that whirring sound was."

Jin laughs and somehow that helps him admit, "I was wondering if you wanted to do anything."

Kame is still stroking his skin, still lightly, his hands only hesitating a moment. "Do you?"

He had a comfort at eight. If he had to, he could… but he's not sure that's the right way to think about it, either. "I don't know… it's just, first night, and all…" Friday doesn't count.

Kame doesn't bring up Friday either. There's a rustle, a slide of something on the bedside table, and then the lights come on, soft and dimmed, and Kame looks at him. "I don't think there's rules that say we have to," he says gently. "And I thought you might be… tired."

 _… tired_. As far as code goes, it could be worse.

And Kame makes himself comfortable again, his head on his outflung arm, and his smile is warm, reassuring.

Jin traces his eyebrows with the pad of his thumb. When Kame's not wearing TV make-up you can sometimes see where they'd grow wild if Kame let them. "We could," he says. "It's been a while for you too… "

"That doesn't matter."

"It matters to me. I want to be a proper boyfriend."

"Proper boyfriends get to sleep when they're tired," Kame points out. "That matters to _me_." His eyes are much more awake now, and Jin is glad for the light, glad he can see Kame and know it's okay even as they're… figuring things out.

That's what they're doing. They are not having an argument over sex.

"And you're going to be here lots more nights," Kame adds. "We have lots of time. Lots of other first nights. So this is that kind of first night, just like this, and I'm really happy."

Jin never really thought about that; he doesn't even know how often Kame likes it when he sees someone a lot, doesn't have to hide from a wife. The thought of every night, or every other night, with all the clients in the mix…

But this, here, is great, lying here with Kame, and knowing they can when they want to and it's nobody's business but theirs, and he wishes he could be all for Kame—

"That whirring sound? It'll freak out the cat."

"Serves her right," Jin says automatically, and then Kame is kissing his forehead, and his nose, and his eyes, and it's weird how it calms his brain down, makes his heart feel drowsy.

And still they don't know about normal first nights or how Kame feels about still not getting any.

But Kame isn't the one who can know how many— how tired Jin is. And Jin thinks about what if the tables were turned, as weird a thought as that is, and what he would want.

"What if I just told you?" he suggests. "Like, when I'm really too tired."

Kame looks thoughtful, like he's not quite happy with the metaphor any more.

"Or when I just don't feel like it," Jin adds, and Kame seems to like that slant on it better, or maybe it deals with his worries better, worries he shouldn't have.

"Would you? Promise?"

"Yes. But then you have to tell me what you want too, I don't want to worry all the time that you're not even asking because you're— worried."

They're really a pair.

"I think," Kame says, his hand sliding down Jin's arms, finding his fingers, "that sounds like a good plan. Let's do it like that."

"Good." Jin squeezes back, and Kame's hand is hot and strong. "So."

"I really don't need anything else," Kame says without even hesitating, or wondering what Jin means. "I just want to be with you. Close to you. It's perfect."

Okay then. The new rule says to believe him, and Jin thinks the rule is right. They can be like this, and just sleep.

"Get the light," Jin says, and Kame grins as if getting orders from Jin is a fun and pleasing adventure.

 ~

_Chapter 52 to follow 01/03/2012_


	52. Chapter 52

### Monday 16 March

It gets worse.

You wouldn't think it, but it does, and it wears him down. The nervous elation of finally making a move and cutting through the lies lasted for half a day; the public fallout stretches out through days and days, a grey fog of animosity and fear. He goes to sleep with dread curling around his insides, and when he wakes up it doesn't feel any better.

It's okay when he's at work, what there's left of it. He felt the wary curiosity in people's stares for the first two days, but when he didn't start walking with swishy hands or hitting on Morioka, the novelty must have worn off, or maybe they decided that his plea for privacy hid no deep, deviant secrets. Morioka himself is quiet support though they never talk about it, make small talk about the sandwiches instead. So filming's a breeze, and productive, and between lobsters and knives there are whole hours when he doesn't think about scandals and exposure.

But some nights he wakes up, bolt upright and convinced he heard a phone call, fumbles around in the fuzzy light for another lost project, his agency telling him they've had enough of this hassle, they're done.

The light's on for Jin. Kame steals closer to him then, mumbles something about dreaming of earthquakes.

He sleeps better when Jin is around.

Hamaguchi reads him the press coverage when he's at the agency. She must have interns on it, thorough ones who like to make her happy, to catch all this. The papers talk around him, around 'gay', ringing omissions that Hamaguchi vindictively translates for him. He's at the agency a lot. Talking about his future and his image; more often than not they're one and the same. Nobody's sure yet what to do with either.

Nobody's sure how it happened, who or what's behind it. Tokyo Sports is protecting its source, even though in the end the source let them down.

What followed was only more set pictures, Kame talking to men, to the boys in school uniforms. "Nothing, really," Hamaguchi commented, and Kame knows you can make nothing look like anything but it all faded next to what he gave them that day. Stills from his press conference, his own words this time in red ink.

The front page is back to car sales and political scandals, but Kame stays on in the entertainment sections for a week; then in the weeklies, the weekend overviews, the Monday after when AOKI sign thirty-something Kanagawa Yuuto for their suits. Kame worked with him in the law drama.

"Contractual delays," Hamaguchi quotes, her glossy nails sharp on the headlines. "That's you."

Some days he's watching all this as if through a foggy lens, a spectator to his own life, and there's a crazy guy who threw his career and the respect of his colleagues in a blender and pressed a button labelled DESTROY.

On Wednesday he leaves a meeting between the second and the third round of coffee, excuses himself from a discussion of which talk show to pitch him to after _Hanamaru_ withdrew their invitation, and sits down on a toilet lid and just wants out, out and away, somewhere nobody knows him and nobody hates him, where nobody uninvites him from things.

He was such a huge success, and now people don't want him on their show. He's gay, he lied, he slept with whores, and nobody will ever like him again.

Five minutes, he sits and breathes. He remembers Souji finding him in a bathroom and he laughs, but he doesn't feel lighter. He goes back out, orders another coffee, and Hamaguchi says she doesn't have a pleasant history with Fuji's _Morning Breakfast_ but they value scoop over respectability, and maybe there's room to negotiate.

It's the same day Jin sends him an e-mail saying he got the apartment; Jin writes cautiously, as if he doesn't want to get excited, but Kame can tell by tone now that he's really happy. He holds the words in both of his hands and doesn't feel so alone.

When he can't come over, Jin writes him a lot too.

Kame talks to a lawyer. In some ways this is easiest, blessedly structured and blunt: he wants a divorce, he wants it fast, and his wife's not at fault for anything. The man gets paid and doesn't judge him, and as a divorce lawyer he's seen much worse.

It takes a while to see which way the fans jump. The letters start arriving a few days in and Hamaguchi scans them for him. "Poor Kame-chan, evil agency," she counts out. "Evil Kamenashi, how could you dare not tell your fans first." She flicks to the next one. "Poor Kame-chan, evil paparazzi." Flick. "Evil paparazzi. Evil paparazzi. Evil Kamenashi. Poor Kame-chan, evil wife. Evil agency. Congrats on your impending wedding to Morioka-san."

She keeps the bad ones away from him, and he's too scared to even read the supportive ones, for fear they'll call him brave when he feels anything but.

Life goes on; it has that habit, was what his grandmother said when his grandfather died, and she wasn't entirely with it then but the thought sticks to Kame's brain like waterproof make-up and this can't be worse than somebody dying, and so he'd better keep it together.

He tells himself he had it coming, in the moments when he wants to curl up and take it all back. He doesn't get to be a wimp.

He catches his rest when Jin is there. Jin gets in late most nights and Kame gets tired, but he waits up. Like he said, he thinks; but that's an excuse, like he's keeping a promise when what he needs are those few hours in the day when he knows it's worth it, and he almost feels happy.

 

### Thursday 19 March

He doesn't go into the agency on Thursday. He requested a postponement and Hamaguchi had nothing urgent. He still has filming, but it's short, and when he turns the key in the door and hears a soft tune of piano and guitars, he's smiling already.

"Hey," Jin says, darting up from the sofa and turning the music lower, even though it wasn't loud. "You're early." He's smiling too.

"I ran away," Kame says, as if Jin will believe it. He had motivation to get all his scenes done in one, though. "I missed you."

Jin is in jeans and a simple black t-shirt. It's ordinary and beautiful, better than Kame ever thought he'd have.

Jin catches his look, and Kame thinks he's blushing. "I made myself some tea," he says, gesturing vaguely at the spotless kitchen. The only evidence of tea is a lone mug on the coffee table.

Jin cleared breakfast away, too. "And I put your bathrobe in the hamper, it had egg on it. I hope you don't mind."

"No, thank you." Kame casts a look around the place while he gets out of his suit and into something comfortable. "I hope you didn't spend all day cleaning up after me, though."

"No fear," Jin says with a laugh. "Can't put poor Watanabe-san out of business."

Kame spoke to her yesterday. Told her that a friend would be using the apartment, too. If she had opinions about it, she kept them safe behind a professional smile and a polite bow.

"Did you have a nap?" The bed's immaculately made, but Jin tends to collapse in the afternoon if he dragged himself out of bed heroically for breakfast together at seven.

"Hm," Jin says shiftily; he gets embarrassed by how much sleep he needs. "Might have?" But he's smiling.

Jin makes him tea, too; it gives Kame time to just watch him moving around comfortably, and to shake off the rattling thoughts from outside. Jin got in early Wednesday afternoon, no work, no worrying, just stayed. These are the best days in Kame's week.

"How was your day?" he asks, for once not uneasy about the answer.

"Quiet," Jin says. "Relaxing. I checked out subway connections for my new place." He looks pleased; Kame just waits for Jin to put the teapot down before he steps in and slides his arms around Jin, shutting his eyes against Jin's neck.

Jin holds him, too. He feels soft and strong. They can do that now, Kame thinks, with that insistent happy flicker. He didn't just lose.

"How was yours?" Jin asks.

"Better," Kame says. "It's much better now."

"Nobody yell at you?"

"They're being strategically silent." He laughs and feels Jin's sigh. Being home is like breathing after a heavy run.

He feels desire, too. A fuzzy hum underneath, memory and want, and he feels better, connected, when they're together like that. But it's Thursday, the one day Jin doesn't have to think about sex, so in the end he just steps away.

Jin has bought a bag of taiyaki, waves it enticingly under Kame's nose. Kame smiles and picks one. If his career ends up shot to hell, at least he can get as fat as Jin wants to feed him.

"I spoke to Tanaka, too," Jin says. "He called me."

Kame tries not to get excited. No pressure, no expectations. "Does that mean—"

"It just means he wants to talk to me," Jin says. He's also not excited; that alone is more telling than anything. "He says we should meet up sometime, let the band… well, they should get to talk to me too."

"Did you set a date?"

"Maybe next Thursday, or the one after that."

"Good," Kame says, and maybe it even is. He didn't think Tanaka would get in touch with Jin before he had anything more substantial on the table, but Kame is the one who asked a favour and now he can't complain.

"It's nice of him," Jin says carefully. "But we'll see. So, are we doing the rice thing?"

Kame promised to teach him how to make fried rice. Jin looks like this is far more fascinating than anything Tanaka can currently offer.

It's restful, watching Jin chop bacon and sausages and spring onions, make omelette only to cut it up. Kame tries not to interfere much. Jin laughs at the way his hands are twitching when Jin's a bit late turning the omelette or a piece of sausage ends up twice as long as the others.

In the end it tastes just like always – at least Kame's portion does; Jin added chilli sauce to his. They eat sitting on the couch with their feet up on the coffee table and some American metal band on low, Kame with a glass of good wine, Jin choosing water. He's making plans for what bed he wants to buy, and wants Kame's opinion because Kame is expected to stay over.

"The fold-out ones don't have such good mattresses," Jin says, frowning at a piece of sausage. "But the space…" He's wearing the warm socks that he keeps in the drawer next to Kame's underwear.

Kame wants it to be Thursday forever.

Jin's guitar is leaning against the bookshelf. Maybe he practiced earlier, for the Open Mic tonight. Maybe in a few weeks, Kame will work up the nerve to ask Jin to play his songs for him here.

They finish their rice and load the dishwasher. When they're back on the couch, Jin sticks his feet under Kame's legs.

"It's almost eight," Kame points out helpfully after a happy little while of basking in food glow and fondling Jin's ankle.

"Yeah…" Jin looks around the room. He's biting his lip. "It's kind of sucky for you if I go now."

"It's Thursday. You have commitments." The last thing Kame wants is to be in the way of something that's important to Jin. "I can wait up, if you want to come by after?" He wants to say he can pay for a cab and he wants Jin to say yes, of course he'll come. But he'll deal either way.

"I don't know how you don't drop dead with all this not-sleeping that you do," Jin says, and then he frowns. "Don't drop dead, okay?"

Kame laughs, and promises with a kiss to the tip of Jin's socked toe.

"I'll come by if you nap," Jin smiles.

So they have a deal, and Kame anticipates a quiet evening of going over scripts, napping, and then there'll be Jin again. Peaceful.

"It would be nicer if you could come with me," Jin says at the door, ducking his head into his collar when he's not even outside.

It's not an invitation, Kame can hear that. He couldn't accept anyway; he'd be too nervous, and Jin would worry, when he's there to have fun with his friends. Who knows what Yamashita-san makes of Kame now.

"I'll be here," he says, "warming the bed." And that makes it better, because it's what people do; go out and do things, and then they come home. On Thursdays even the wait feels good.

*~*~*

He wakes up from the key in the door that night, Jin sneaking in smelling of beer and smoke, five hours before they'll have breakfast. He's damp and smells of shampoo when he slips in under the covers, tipsy enough to giggle when their noses bump.

"They were there," he whispers, clinging to Kame and sticking really cold feet between Kame's legs. Kame loves even his cold feet. "The band guys, they came to see me. God I was so nervous."

Kame pats him. No excitement, not in the middle of the night, and Jin mumbles how it's awesome when Kame plays bedwarmer, and then he's quiet, or drifting off.

He still sleeps better with Jin around. He feels it under his skin all day, even when he goes into the agency on Friday morning and Hamaguchi is pacing her tiled office, informing him he's not been nominated for any of the usual awards this spring.

*~*~*

In the second week he buys a washing machine. It feels wasteful and weirdly exposed to take underwear to the cleaner's, and he's an adult with an apartment and a boyfriend and he figures he should have a washing machine. He makes sure it's delivered while he's in; isn't so ready to leave Jin to deal with deliverymen in his home and let them draw their conclusions.

He's nervous; they're polite and normal and have him sign receipts, and the one thing that makes them take notice is his impressive flatscreen TV.

Jin kisses him later and laughs that they're right, it's a cool TV. Jin starts leaving more things, and their t-shirts and sweatpants get mixed in the laundry.

Kame gets some more items from the house: the rest of his wardrobe, his important papers. Midori said she'd rather he did it while she's at work, so he's alone in the house, which is almost the same as ever, except their wedding picture is gone. He feels his heart go tight whenever he thinks of her when they were friends, because he liked her so much, because he cared for her opinion. But he can't feel anything when he walks around the house, looks at the nice furniture Midori picked, their dining table. Maybe he's defective somehow.

He gets back to work. Dieting season soon, yoghurt to be eaten, and he's doing more ads for his money this year, "as a gesture". He smiles brightly as ever and eats the strawberry flavour, the vanilla, whatever they put in front of him. He's losing weight by the week and thinks he must be setting a pretty good example.

His parents call him, time and again. He says there is work, keeps it short. They love him but they also love his wife, and out of all the opinions the world has on him, their sadness feels worst. Out of all the things he has coming, this is one he's a coward about.

*~*~*

In the third week, he gets a call while he's on set, from someone he doesn't recognise. His cell has a closely guarded number and he's wondering if his mother bought a new phone as he picks up.

"Kamenashi speaking."

"Um, hi," says a voice; a young voice. "This is, sorry. This is Kobi. Your agent said I could call you here."

Kobi, teacher film nerd. The only reason Kame gets it this quickly is because of how the film got dragged into the scandal. They haven't seen each other since the premiere, almost two months ago. "Hello, Kobi-kun," he says, and waits cautiously.

"Hi," the boy says again. Then there's silence.

"Is everything all right?" Kame asks eventually. He's apologized to everyone who had their name even mentioned in the wake of his mess, but this is making him uneasy.

"Sorry," the kid says. "I mean. I wanted to say sorry about the pictures. Like, I didn't know, when she asked for them. It was just, you know, we were all sharing pictures and I didn't think… it's not like they're bad pictures or anything."

Pictures. His heart thumps into a sudden nervous pace. "Which pictures?"

"The pictures from the set. Of you and. Well. All of us. They were just really harmless but—"

" _Who_ asked for them?"

"Um. Matsura-san."

Matsura. Sharp smile and big plans.

Calling the boys, _Kamenashi and his boys_. Female co-stars have no chance.

"I mean, I don't _know_ what she did with them. I don't want to make stuff up," the boy mumbles. "But when I saw some of them in the papers, I felt kind of bad. But I didn't know what to say, and then it took me ages to figure out how to reach you without, um. Talking to some other people."

"Thanks," Kame says numbly. "Thank you. Was there—" Anything else, but no, there's nothing, because nothing _happened_ , no gifts no pulling strings nothing. Nothing real.

"I appreciate you calling me, that's very considerate," he says instead, and finally his brain starts to unfreeze. Yes, this explains why nothing followed from the whore accusations, why nothing about that went anywhere near the club, anywhere near the truth.

"We're all really sorry," Kobi says. "The other guys, too. We didn't know, like she was chatting up a lot of us but we didn't know."

"It's fine," Kame says. "And you're right, those were perfectly appropriate pictures. Please don't worry about it."

He hears the boy exhale, loudly. "Yeah. That's what I thought. We didn't want you to be mad."

"I'm not mad," Kame says. He doesn't even knows _what_ he is, just yet, what he will be when the stunned feeling fades, but Kobi needs to know he did the right thing. "I'm grateful, really grateful." The appropriate words come on autopilot. "Please give my regards to the others, tell them I look forward to working with you again sometime."

*~*~*

"I'm sorry." Kame's hands are jittery, the coffee vile as ever. "I probably shouldn't be telling you all that..." Maybe any minute now someone will call them out on hiding in a corner, looking _gay_ together. "Sorry."

"What?"

"It's… just gossip," Kame says tightly. "Speculation." It just seemed to pour out of his mouth.

Morioka frowns. "No, really, that's cool… what are friends for, right?" He has a sip of the horrible coffee and doesn't even make a face, he's thinking that hard. "I hate to say it… It's a pretty awful thing to do, so thinking someone you know…. But, man. It would make a sad sort of sense."

"That's what I thought," Kame admits.

"Maybe I should have known that day in the coffee shop, when she didn't get the part," Morioka says with another frown.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She was pretty pissed off. Thought you'd helped me but not her. I didn't really engage with her, but I didn't think she'd go and do something this calculated. I mean, _why_?"

Souji did it for the money. And to hurt him.

"Who knows," Kame says.

"Or why she'd make up _that_. Just because you didn't pretend the junior actors didn't exist?"

Yes, the prostitution angle. What a crazy hit. Maybe she sat at home wondering why he never denied it.

"Maybe if she looked into previous… allegations." He's spent so much time pretending that's not out there, it gives him a tiny shiver to be speculating about it with Morioka. "Maybe she assumed that someone who she thought… favoured men…" He thinks of the club, glitz and glamour he hasn't seen in weeks. Of Tanaka and discretion and Kitagawa Financial Services. "Maybe she thought that's just the way someone like that would do it."

Today seems to be the day where stuff just comes out of his mouth.

"Yeah, but I haven't seen you buy anyone gold watches or a fancy car yet," Morioka says. "Honestly…"

Kame laughs on half a breath. "I'm glad it wasn't someone more important."

Morioka is watching him. He's not an idiot, he'll have put pieces together by now, and maybe he just got a few more pieces, and maybe there should be a shiver there, too. But there isn't.

Suddenly Morioka flushes. "Sorry. I got a bit blunt, I shouldn't have done that."

Kame just shakes his head. "Don't worry. To be honest, it's refreshing."

"Right," Morioka grins, toasting him with the awful coffee. "Like pieces of fish in your face."

*~*~*

That night he curls into Jin, clinging and silent, wired from the hours of waiting for him, and he can't get enough of Jin's soft scent under the scrubbing and soap, he can't get close enough, he wishes Jin would take him.

Jin strokes through his hair, his chest rising with anger when Kame tells him what he learned, what Morioka thought, and the ways this ugly theory adds up.

It's brought it all back; hurting Jin, losing everything.

But eventually they go to sleep, and when they have a drowsy breakfast together, Kame is merely relieved that now he knows. Knows why he's going cheap for yoghurt, and why the people at the agency look at him funny, every day, even now.

He wonders if that's what Souji wanted for him.

At work he tells Hamaguchi about it, because she stuck it out with him and deserves to know where the lies came from, and there's a moment where she looks like she is going through a mental list of ways to make Matsura sorry she crossed someone under Hamaguchi's management.

"But the divorce came from me," he says, and she'll know what he means. The stuff that stuck was _all_ him, as she is fond of reminding him.

"True," she says with a raised eyebrow. "Does that mean you don't want measures taken?"

He has moments when he wonders why he's not more angry. But the first lies, the biggest lies were his, and Kame is done making others pay.

"I think it's best if we all moved on."

They talk about dramas for the fall, and whether he should go for supporting roles, if that would make his life easier. NHK has hinted they want to shake things up, try new things. "Not have a Kamenashi drama this year," Kame translates himself this time.

Hamaguchi looks steely, her coffee untouched. "I have had it," she says, "with these little hypocrite shits," which makes her assistant nearly drop her PDA. It's the first time Kame's heard her use language like that.

He doesn't reply; doesn't agree.

" _You_ ," she says, pointing, "won them four Best Actor awards, and every other fan award that is out there." She grabs her pen, and for a moment Kame worries what she'll do with it. But then she twirls it, the most deliberate girly twirl Kame has ever seen. "And they're going to be pretty sorry when I'll have you winning them for somebody else. So you better not think about fucking quitting."

They still discuss the move to supporting roles. But that's the nicest thing she's ever said to him.

On his way out his phone pings, e-mail from Jin. With a picture, something large and poorly-lit and purple. _I can't make up my mind, do you think these are okay for curtains?_ it says. _Or too dark? Should I go with boring and white?_

He laughs. Curtains. Maybe it doesn't only get worse.

 _Maybe you should buy your sofa first?_ he writes back. _Just in case it's orange._

_~_

_Chapter 53 to follow 08/03/2012_


	53. Chapter 53

### Wednesday 8 April

"Wow," Yuuya says profoundly. "Which old lady left you _these_?"

He has Jin's rice bowls, five of them neatly stacked, and is holding them up as if Jin forgot to clean them and left them to grow pets.

"I bought them," Jin says. "Day I moved in. They were there." White, with purple flowers. "And cheap."

Yuuya nods like he totally understands that part of it, and Jin gets back to taping bubble-wrap around his sound system.

"But you _kept_ them," Yuuya says ten seconds later, and when Jin looks up, he's still staring, holding the bowls warily at arm's length. It's actually quite funny.

"I know they're ugly, but they work, okay? They're just for eating."

"Quarter of a blow job, Jin," Yuuya says. "And you could have had something _nice_."

Jin tosses some balled-up newspaper at him. "I think you're doing it wrong. What does a guy do with a quarter of a blow job?"

Yuuya gives the kitchen cupboards a meaningful look. "You could have spent the rest on some actual wine glasses." He straightens out the newspaper and finally starts to wrap the bowls up, one by one. "I can't believe we'll be carrying these."

"There's an elevator," Jin says with a grin. "So shut up."

It's a Wednesday, and Jin is moving. He's told his bank, he's paid the key money, and on Friday he'll give back the keys to the old place to Ootomo.

Tomo's out working. Jin insisted he shouldn't feel guilty for having no time, and it's not like Jin has enough possessions to need a van anyway. Just his kitchen stuff and the clothes. He told Yuuya he could manage, too, but Yuuya wouldn't hear of it.

"Hey, I never see you in that nice grey suit any more." Yuuya has put down one of the bigger boxes in front of the wardrobe. "You used to wear that a lot when I first knew you."

"Yeah," Jin says. He no longer gets a crawling feeling in his stomach at the sight of it. But he can't really see himself wearing it again, either. "I guess I just stopped liking it."

While folding up clothes, Yuuya tells him how he's decided he has to watch the cocktails because a couple of his favourites are getting a bit tight on him.

"You're probably still growing," Jin says. He stacks the wrapped speakers next to the microwave he bought the other day, still in its box.

"Then they'd be getting too short," Yuuya says. "Either way it's a hassle. They're not even out of fashion." He's very conscientious about folding and stacking the clothes, even the jeans and t-shirts Jin would have just tossed in. Jin hurries on to his underwear and dumps it all in his emptied gym bag.

They're making good time, Jin's modest household investments meaning there is little random crap to pack. Two hours after they started, Jin puts the last of his toiletries in a plastic box while Yuuya is wiping out the empty fridge.

Then they're as done as they can be before the boxes are actually gone. Jin has bought canned coffee for break times, and they sit on the white couch that came with the white apartment, look around the bare white walls and bask in their quick work.

It looked like this when he moved in. He thought it was heaven.

"I could take it from here," he says, surveying the boxes. One for the kitchen, two for clothes, two for all the rest. And the microwave. He makes an easy-going face. "Really. If you wanted…"

"I'm in no hurry to be anywhere," Yuuya says lightly. He sips at his drink. "How clean does this have to be? Did you leave stuff out?"

Jin makes a face in the direction of the bathroom. "Vacuum and mop," he says, which makes Yuuya grin.

Ten minutes later, and exactly on time, the doorbell rings. Jin casts a quick look at Yuuya, who looks perfectly polite. All right then.

"Hey," Kame says, looking adorable in what is probably the Prada version of a hoodie and jeans.

"Hey," Jin says. He thinks he manages not to sound too much like Kame looks adorable. "Did everything… everything okay? With, um, the car. And stuff." He gestures for Kame to step inside.

"Yes, perfectly. I found a spot just across from the front door."

"Good. Great. We just finished packing."

Yuuya has stood up and is bowing, just right for distant acquaintances. "Hello."

Kame returns the greeting. His half-smile looks like he took it prisoner. "Hello, Yuuya-san. It's good to see you. I hope the packing went smoothly?"

"We're all done," Yuuya smiles politely. There's a pause.

"Do you want—"

"That's great—"

"—coffee?" Jin finishes helplessly.

Kame takes a moment to think. "Later?" he says, all light and sunshine. Yeah, right. "I haven't done any work yet."

Yuuya just smiles. Politely.

*~*~*

Jin's glad there's stuff to do. Things to organize, things to carry, no room for failing attempts at small talk. Within ten minutes, they have everything downstairs and loaded into Kame's trunk and the part of the back seat not occupied by Yuuya. Five minutes later, they are at the new apartment, and all the boxes come out again.

"Thank you," Jin says to Kame while Yuuya is getting the last bags from inside the car. "That was a real help. We'd be fine from here, if you've got, you know, work…"

But Kame shakes his head. "It's fine. I took the afternoon off. Lamps, right?"

Yeah, lamps.

Yuuya extracts himself from the back seat with Jin's water heater under one arm, Jin's ugly brown extra blanket under the other. "Okay," he says, "what next?"

"Right," Jin says. He asked for the help. "Let's take it up."

Kame latches on to the nearest box as if he gets paid for it. "Okay," he says, still holding that smile hostage.

They pile the two boxes and Yuuya's load into the elevator. Yuuya is inspecting the elevator button as if deformed cat art is his new burning interest. Under other circumstances Jin would be curious what they make of the house, but they're both so pointedly noncommittal that he wouldn't get real answers anyway.

Kame frowns at the little stack. "Maybe we should—" But he breaks off and shakes his head.

"What?" Jin asks.

"Nothing!"

"What?"

Kame blinks. He seems to take a mental run at something. "I was just wondering if we should load the elevator as much as we can and send it up like that. If that would be quicker. But— you don't have that much anyway. It's fine."

Yuuya is watching them patiently, hands in his pockets. He's pressed the right button already.

"I want to show you the place first," Jin decides, and Kame nods his immediate cooperation. He looks like that sometimes when he asks Jin about his day at work. Resolutely untroubled.

Up on his floor, Yuuya takes in the bonsai pictures. Kame projects helpful harmlessness and doesn't take in anything much. Jin doesn't know what he'll do with the two of them if he ever needs a toilet break.

Still he's a little bit excited when he unlocks the door and switches on the naked lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. His own place, with his own money. And his boyfriend carrying his kitchenware.

"Sweet," Yuuya says, eyeing the floor, the windows, the power sockets along the north wall.

Jin can't help grinning. "You like it?"

"It's small, but it looks like what you said you wanted. And clean."

"It looks like someone takes care of this place," Kame says with an approving nod.

Yuuya looks at him, without the escort smile this time, and Jin holds his breath a little, but Kame just faces him very calmly. "I own a small apartment building. From what I know this looks good."

Yuuya nods. "Yeah. I'm glad. Good for Jin."

They make a new pile, out of the way, over where Jin says his sofabed will go once he gets it delivered.

At least, Yuuya points out, Jin doesn't have to agonize over which room to put things in, which makes Jin laugh and Kame produce a respectful smile. Then they admire the double glazing. When Jin starts pondering the size of the tiny kitchen cupboard, Yuuya says he can load the elevator again and Jin can direct proceedings up here. It makes them all pause when they realize it's Kame's car and Yuuya needs Kame's key, but Kame hands it over, saying he thinks it's an excellent idea.

And Yuuya trots off, looking like nothing could ever be wrong in the world. Maybe Jin should go to the toilet now, just in case.

He sticks a shoe in the door for convenience, and straightens up to see Kame standing right where they left him.

"Are you okay?" Jin asks quietly.

"Yes, I'm fine." He's always fine.

"What was that, in the elevator?"

Kame gives him a funny little smile, but it looks genuine at last. "I was trying to organize us," he admits. "But I didn't think he'd appreciate it."

The dodgy light brings out the shadows under his eyes. He really isn't sleeping much, and when he does he's clinging to Jin half the time. Jin thinks he doesn't even notice.

"Do you want to go home?" Jin asks, to a surprised blink. "You helped me a lot already. It was great, with the car and all. If you don't need this…" Kame knows what he means.

"I thought we were still going shopping."

Lampshades. Some other stuff from the DIY store that is more convenient to get with a car. "Yeah, but. That can wait. I don't have to do everything today. You don't need to drive my crap around all day."

"I'm okay," Kame says. "Also, your boyfriend. Driving your crap around all day when you move is what I do." He stuffs his hands into his designer pockets; it looks so far from smooth Jin wants to hug him. Kame tilts his head to the door. "He's your friend, he's helping you too. I'm fine."

"Okay," Jin says, and, "thanks," and he's just thinking of really hugging him when they hear the elevator ping. Kame nods, and they go to help unload.

This load has the sound system, clothes and kitchen stuff. "If you could do the kitchen," Jin says to Kame, because he wants to do the stereo himself, and Yuuya will be better with the suits. "Just organize it like you have yours, then I'll know where to find stuff."

He shows Yuuya the door rail he's going to use to hang the suits until he buys a wardrobe, shows him where and how he wants the other clothes stacked in the meantime, and then he sits down to fiddle with wires. They work in silence, the most noticeable sounds coming from the crockery and cutlery Kame is sorting into a couple of shelves and a drawer.

When the sound stops, Jin looks up. Kame isn't done yet. He's standing holding one of Jin's rice bowls, turning it with slow fascination and a secret little smile.

"Ye-es?" Jin says, and Kame tries to make a straight face, which fails.

Jin raises his eyebrows at Kame.

"I guess they're okay for eating?" Kame offers.

From the other corner of the room Jin hears a snort, but when he sneaks a look, Yuuya has got his most harmless face on, engrossed by Jin's socks.

 

### Thursday 9 April

It's a pretty nondescript office building in a pretty nondescript part of Chiyoda, and when the elevator opens onto the sixth floor, Jin thinks that he didn't expect music production to look so mundane. Once he's past reception there's a small, comfortable lounge, and the only things giving away that this isn't a dentist's waiting room are the framed gold and platinum records on the walls and the music magazines stacked tidily in a rack.

Jin feels like he's in a dentist's waiting room anyway. He's more nervous than somebody who isn't even sure he wants this gig has any call to be. But here he is, in a Kame outfit for luck, sipping the tea the receptionist brought him with apologies that Tanaka-san was held up in an important phone call.

He's sipped about half of it when he hears a few banging doors, and Tanaka appears in frayed black jeans and a washed-out black t-shirt, casts one look at him and breaks into a grin.

"Oh boy. He could have told you I don't stand on ceremony."

Jin can't think of a clever response to that. "I could roll my sleeves up?"

"No, no, it's okay, don't worry." Tanaka is still standing, bouncing on the balls of his – sneakered – feet. "Let's go through to my office, this place here is a bit stuffy."

So Jin finds himself four doors down, right at the end of the corridor, in a much larger, much messier room. The walls are papered with concert posters and random notes. The huge desk in the middle is barely visible under two laptops, mounds of paperwork, boxes of kibble, some small drums and – Jin thinks – a Yamaha MOX.

Tanaka clears another laptop and a set of headphones off a chair for him.

"So," he says, once Jin has sat down and made sure not to kick the dog bowl under the desk. "Kame asked if you could join JUNGLELOW but on the phone you said you weren't really sure if you wanted to. Usually, it works the other way round, so I'm intrigued."

"Yeah, well," Jin says uncomfortably. "He asked you before he asked me. I never thought about it before. I don't know if it's very realistic just to quit my job and join a band."

"Yet here you are," Tanaka points out.

"Yeah, well," Jin catches himself saying again. Eloquent. "I mean… it's not that I don't like the idea. And I'm really grateful that you're discussing it with me. But I've got a job that pays well, and I made plans and things, for security. With this, I don't even know what I'd earn." He's uncomfortable putting it like that. He doesn't want to sound like he's demanding things. But if he doesn't get good answers, he knows he's not going to do it anyway, so in the end it makes no difference. Might as well ask his questions straight. "Or what happens if people stop liking us."

Tanaka is pursing his lips and nodding. "That's fair. Not many young guys view it realistically like that, there's more of a suck-it-and-see approach." He shakes himself a little. "Sorry, I didn't mean… well."

Jin can't help a small grin escaping. "No problem."

"Here's how it works with the bands I sign," Tanaka says. "I give them a contract – usually two years for starters, for new bands. I pay them a salary – not huge, certainly not what you're earning just now. Enough to get by. At the same time, I produce their records; usually three singles, one album per year. I promote them, organize appearances, provide touring backup and equipment. Any profits, I get ninety per cent, the band ten."

Ninety. Jin blinks. Even Ootomo only takes fifty.

"And if we don't make much?"

"Then you live on your salaries for two years, and I run a loss. After two years, I decide whether it's worth continuing or not."

"So…" Jin says slowly. "If I'm unlucky, I'm out of a job after two years of earning, well, not very much?" It wouldn't give him much of a chance to save up.

"In a nutshell." Tanaka leans back in his executive chair, studying Jin. "But you have a rich boyfriend."

Jin tries not to wince. He doesn't want to sound like he doesn't trust Kame, or wouldn't appreciate his help… but the truth is he wouldn't, and it's complicated, and he doesn't even think he wants to explain it to anybody who isn't Kame.

"Yeah," he says. "I want to be his boyfriend, too. Not his boytoy. I need my own job." It's close enough to the truth.

"Like now?" Tanaka says.

"I make enough that I can stop in two years, support myself while I learn something different." Or in a year. Even a year would help. "A sure thing, not like music." It hurts him to say it like that, but that's just the way it is.

"You really want to make him wait two years?"

"I don't _want_ to. You don't think I like that job, right?"

"So it's just that you're scared."

Jin takes a breath to argue, but what's the point. Tanaka has never been homeless, has never been a whore. Wouldn't understand what it feels like when you've got to depend on charity or on your looks to survive. "Maybe."

Tanaka gives him a long look. Then he puts on a smile. "Well, as it happens, JUNGLELOW are here today for going over some stuff, and I got some lemon tarts from Robuchon's. You guys can have coffee together and chat a bit, purely non-committal. They've got Tsukioka-san until the end of the current promo run, though he's taking a big step back. Nobody's really sure yet if they should continue as five, or find a new sixth, and who it should be. But here you are, and maybe they can answer some of your questions, too."

Right. Jin's not sure why Tanaka is still putting up with him; he knows how he must be coming across. But he's led down the corridor again, to a room nearer the front, where JUNGLELOW are sitting in armchairs around a low table, poring over photographs of themselves amidst a lot of green.

"Hey, Akanishi-kun!" Ochiai, their remaining guitarist, notices Jin first, looking up from a picture that shows him in a creepy forest. "Recovered after all those beers?"

"I managed to stumble into a cab," Jin says with a grin. "You guys got home okay?"

"Saku-chan was terribly hung-over," Misa says with a toss of her hair. It's more orange today than it was last Thursday, or maybe that's just the light. Jin's discovered that he really likes her, now that he's no longer intimidated by her.

"I really should know better," Saku-chan says, screwing up her nose. It looks cutely inconsistent with the elegant clothes she's wearing. "Since I know what all those gin and tonics are doing to my brain and my liver."

"What's this?" Tanaka is raising surprised eyebrows. "You guys went and got drunk together?"

"They came to the bar," Jin says, a little puzzled himself. He'd assumed that Tanaka knew.

"When you told us to meet up with him, we thought we'd check him out," Kurata says without the slightest remorse. The studs of her leather jacket dig into the upholstery as she leans back comfortably. "Call it research, boss."

"Research, right," Tanaka grumbles. "Well… good show of initiative. I'll leave you to it, then."

He swipes a lemon tart off the tray on his way out.

"Um," Jin says, suddenly nervous again. "Hi."

But there's really no time for awkwardness as Misa rushes over to him with a handful of photographs that show her draped with lianas or something, and asks for his confirmation that half of them are 'gross'. Then he hears all about the photoshoot itself, for a magazine for Greenery Day, for which they were taken to some indoor jungle so humid that their make-up needed to be retouched every two minutes.

"We'll be playing at an eco-festival then," Kurata says, and just like that they're talking about whale songs and political messages in music and uplifting _alla breve_ beats. Only Yamato the drummer is quiet, and Jin catches a cool, thoughtful look every so often.

Jin gets to ask some questions, too, once not everybody is focusing on him any more and he can talk to people more privately. Kurata is able to give him lots of information about what it's like to have music as the only job. "Ups and downs," she says, shrugging. "I've only been _really_ worried once, after I got myself an apartment and then some of my regular gigs fell through. Couldn't keep up with the rent. I was almost ready to use my licence and start teaching kids. I hate kids. But my folks helped me out for three months, and then things picked up again."

"But you never worried about…" Jin feels slightly stupid but still. "…like, eating? Or not being able to afford any rent at all?"

"Well," she says. "I guess if the worst really came to the worst, I could move back in with my folks. So I don't worry too much."

Yeah. And she's got a licence to teach.

"What about the pay with this, Tanaka said you get ten per cent?"

"That's normal." She purses her lips. "Actually, it's pretty good, for what we get. He invests a lot in us, after all. And at the start, a sixth of ten per cent was pretty much nothing, but I got a nice little scooter out of it when we hit the charts so high."

Jin blinks. "So… the amount gets split by however many band members there are?"

"Yeah." She leans closer. "That's why Jiro is kind of eager to keep us at five. More cash to go round. Only I'm pretty sure we sound better as six, and if people stop liking our sound, then _pfffft_ , cash." She shrugs. "So."

Yeah, so. Jin's head is starting to hurt. He gets himself a cup of the very strong coffee, and next he finds himself talking to Saku, who is staring between the sugar and the sweetener in despair. "One will make me fat and the other will give me cancer," she sighs. "And I hate unsweetened coffee."

"I don't think a couple of spoons of sugar will make you fat," Jin says. "Go with the real stuff."

"Thanks." She smiles at him. "So, what are you thinking of all this?"

"I'm thinking I don't know what I'm thinking," he admits honestly. "Being a waiter sucks, but music seems a pretty chancy business, and I hear that members in a smaller band get a better cut."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, has Jiro-kun been chewing your ear?"

"No, Kurata-san mentioned it. I asked her about percentages."

"Well, it's about the sound, right? We need a good sound." She swirls her cup around. "But you're right that it's not like a job in public services. My parents were a bit shocked that I'd give up a career in medicine for this. Even my girlfriend had doubts. But I told them, I have my degree, and I can always go back to it later, if this doesn't work out. Or once I've had enough." She looks around at the others, who seem to be fighting over photographs again. "We all have something like that. I think it feels good, just in case."

Jin nods. It probably does.

"You'd always be able to go back to being a waiter, too," she says. "If you were to… you know. I know all this is totally free from commitment, pesticides and carcinogenics, but still, there's a reason the Joker got in lemon tarts for this meeting."

"Yeah," Jin says. "I just don't know."

She looks at him sympathetically, with a slow smile. "Well, let me know if there's anything else I can tell you."

He nods gratefully, even takes her phone number.

But he just doesn't know.

 

### Sunday 12 April

Jin lets him lock the door and adjust the alarm, before he walks Kame against the wall beside the coat rack and kisses him a soft, slightly wet hello.

"Hey." Jin's nose is cold from outside and his sigh warm and minty. "Missed you."

Weekends are busy times. Kame clutches on to Jin's spring coat and closes his eyes so Jin will kiss him again. "I missed you too," he says then, and Jin grins widely, as if this were not entirely predictable information.

He lets Jin hand him the coat, and Jin slips out of his shoes.

"Have you eaten?" Kame asks lightly.

"Onigiri at six," Jin shrugs.

It's half past eleven now. "I have fresh tortellini, just need to boil them for three minutes."

Jin kisses him again. "That sounds wonderful."

Jin showers while Kame heats the pasta. He always showers, changes from jeans and sweaters into t-shirt and sweatpants, getting comfortable, fluffy and warm. Kame made arrabiata sauce because Jin likes it spicy.

"How was work?" Kame asks, as usual, once Jin has made some inroads into his food.

"Pretty normal," Jin says, eyes on the pasta. "Oh, I helped Maeda-san with some English food orders. He's our cook, you know… That was fun. Did you know what a turducken is?"

Kame laughs, shaking his head. "No."

"I didn't either, we had to look it up." Jin reveals the mystery, and Kame is suitably impressed by this education.

He has a sip from his small glass of wine, and Jin feeds him a piece of tortellini. The very late dinners don't work for Kame's schedule, so now he often has a snack around eight, and steals things from Jin later. They both like that.

"How was your weekend?" Jin asks.

"Quiet. I dealt with some paperwork. Went for a run. I did film on Saturday so that was good." Kame makes sure he looks very upbeat.

Weekends are when most couples get together. And they tried Friday and Saturday nights at the start, but Jin gets in so late it's not worth the travel, or the awkwardness of Jin being barely up and going back to work the next day.

"I got my bed on Saturday," Jin says next. "It looks really good in there. Though I'm glad I went with the folding couch, it's pretty big as it is…"

"Great," Kame says, crossing off the worry of Jin sleeping on a pile of blankets. He adds, "I look forward to seeing it for myself," just because it makes Jin smile like that.

Jin tells him the rest of his apartment progress; that he borrowed a ladder and finally put up those lights, and that his blue curtains go well with the bed. They fall quiet for a bit. Jin finishes the tortellini. It's peaceful and unhurried. They can talk more in bed. They always do that.

There's no TV, nothing to organize except put the leftover sauce and the dishes away. They change into boxer shorts for bed, and Jin pulls on the t-shirt he keeps on a hook behind Kame's bedroom door. He smells of sleep and cuddling when he climbs into bed next to Kame, and he lets Kame pull him in at once.

His hair is still damp, and Kame plays with the strands, twirling one around a finger and releasing it to twirl the next, and Jin laughs, low and comfortable, and they don't say much for a while; they always do that, too. Until they're settled and then one or the other of them…

This time it's Kame. "Tanaka called me," he says, and Jin seems to go a little still. "Told me you gave him a proper grilling," Kame continues.

He can't help smiling because Tanaka sounded so perplexed. 'I didn't know your boyfriend was that mulish,' is what he said to Kame.

Jin props himself up on an elbow. He's blushing a little. "I just needed to know…" His hand is fidgety on Kame's chest. "You know, stuff."

Kame nods. "Yeah." He puts his own hand over Jin's, strokes gently with his thumb.

"Was he very annoyed?"

"Hmm." Kame's smile is more for Jin's benefit this time. "I think more intrigued." Or amused. And at least, Kame thinks, Tanaka seems to have stopped worrying that Jin is only after Kame's money.

Jin hides his face with a resigned little laugh.

"So what do you think?"

This time it's a sigh.

"I don't know," Jin says after a moment, muffled against Kame's shoulder. His arms snake tight around Kame, only relax when Kame picks up the strokes through Jin's hair. "It's not what I planned."

He whispers the rest of it; the details that didn't fit into their few quick phone calls. The contract and the money, the worry. For the first time Jin says _homeless_ out loud.

Kame could make all that worry go away. It would be so easy, he has to bite his tongue.

But Jin has reasons. Jin would say it's not easy at all.

"Two years isn't long," Jin says. "And I need to save up."

Kame nods and plays with the hair behind Jin's ears, kisses his temple.

"They might not even want me," Jin says in a firmer voice. "If they keep looking. I think they'd like someone who's actually good with the guitar. And some of them want to stay as five, get a bigger cut, so."

Kame feels his shrug.

"I guess we'll just see how it turns out," he says, and presses Jin against him. "Either way we'll be fine."

Either way he'll deal.

"I got a fan letter today," he says quietly. "I've been too scared to read them, but Hamaguchi… well. It was from a girl, she was in love with her best friend. She said she didn't know if I'm… but that it helped. What I did."

Jin squeezes against him. "Good," he says. "And see? They like you. A lot."

Kame laughs. "Have you been looking on the internet?"

"Just a bit," Jin confesses. "Then I stopped. I felt like I was snooping. A lot of them think you're awesome, though."

Jin wouldn't tell him about the other ones, either.

Kame breathes in deeply, closes his eyes, lets it rest a little while. Jin's fingers on Kame's shoulder are moving just enough to say Jin's not falling asleep.

Kame is glad. It was a long, lonely weekend, and he isn't ready for the day to end yet. "We should make a date for me to come visit," he says, trailing his fingers down Jin's back, so lightly that Jin squirms. "Your apartment."

Jin's still hiding his face. "Yep. Totally."

"What would you like as a housewarming present?"

That makes Jin lift his head and squint at him. "I don't have room for some huge-ass TV. Just in case you're thinking thoughts."

"You found me out," Kame says, and sighs, not that he was thinking of a TV in the slightest. "I guess it'll have to be a toaster after all."

Jin digs his impressively cold feet into the back of Kame's legs.

"Okay, okay!" Kame tries to squirm out of the way, but Jin's wrapped solidly around him, so he pokes at his sides instead. "I thought about towels. You'll need some." Thick ones that match his curtains, but Kame suspects that saying that will just provoke thrift-focused statements again. He remembers the bowls. "Or of course I could try and find you a set of tea cups to match those striking rice bowls of yours. There's got to be a car boot sale somewhere in this country where— okay!" He squeaks pathetically when Jin gets him good in the thighs, and is still giggling when he surrenders into Jin's monster clutch and they calm down again.

Jin looks very pleased with himself, and Kame can only shake his head. He's not always this ticklish.

"Okay," he repeats eventually, quieter. "Towels? Let me get you something nice."

"Hmm," Jin says. "I guess that would be useful…"

"I'll use them too," Kame adds.

" _Hmmmm_." Jin frowns in a show of very bad acting. Then he grins. "Okay!" He sneaks forward for a kiss. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kame says, and kisses him back. His mouth tingles with the familiar softness, and he loves Jin's little smile.

It's good, to be so close to Jin. He can feel the wait in how his skin takes every touch and wants more.

He leans in again, makes the next kiss longer. Leaves a question with the slip of his tongue.

Eleven days. It shouldn't feel this long. He promised he'd ask.

When he pulls back, Jin looks at him with half-closed eyes, like there's a thought or two there but they're not worth getting in a hurry about.

Jin also promised.

Jin's hands curl around Kame's hips, pull him a little closer. There's still a smile when Jin presses their mouths together, catching Kame's sigh, or any other sound that might have made him embarrassed.

Next Jin's hands slide around, warm through thin boxers, and _yes_ , that's a _yes_ , and Kame gasps even before Jin rolls on his back and pulls him along because it's such a relief, he didn't even know.

It's fast for him; embarrassing if Jin didn't hum encouragement and grab him back and let him shake and strain and thrust, closer, just ever closer. He gets Jin's t-shirt off, and Jin gets them back together with those strong arms that know what they want too, Jin always wants to touch him. Kame loves that Jin gets hard from their fumbling and from Kame's shallow breaths, panted into Jin's neck with Jin's hand around him, Jin knowing just what he needs, making all the strain and empty tension finally shudder away.

It takes longer for Jin. But Kame knows how to do it for him too, his breath still fast, his hand shaky between them. He whispers things; silly things about how happy he is, because Jin likes that, and he knows how to touch Jin even when Jin is tired and not urgent, and god it's been so long since he felt _familiar_ with someone, and Jin wants him, just like this.

Jin comes with a muffled little sound, clutching on to Kame's arms.

They're so sweaty. And hot. Even Jin's feet got finally warm. Kame smiles against his skin as he slows them down. Everything's slowed down, at last, the days and weeks, and he's breathing so much easier. Jin is petting his hair, and it's all good. He doesn't have to think.

Jin yawns; first discreetly, but when Kame laughs, the second yawn is unashamed. "I'm exhausted," Jin says with a smug smile Kame can hear in his voice. "You wore me out."

They're sticky too. Kame gets them a warm wet cloth, wipes down Jin's stomach while Jin stretches his arms up happily and enjoys the soft touch.

"Good thing you'll buy me some of these," he says, wriggling until Kame drops the cloth and draws the blanket over them. "I only have some dish towels…"

"Do they have purple flowers on them?" Kame asks. "Cause then I'd be tempted to keep those."

Jin giggles drowsily and snuggles closer.

 

### Monday 13 April

"Not alone," Junno is saying with a wide grin as Jin gets into the break room at seven, one blow job down, another booked for eight. "Just not with one of us."

Tatsuya is smiling an indulgent little smile, sipping at his tea and giving the impression that he's got all the time in the world until Junno comes to his point.

Jun, on the other hand, is rolling his eyes and fiddling with the leather buckles on his pants. "Well, spit it out then."

"What's not alone?" Jin takes some evil pleasure in asking. Predictably, Jun sighs deeply as the story starts over.

"Koyama-sensei," Junno says excitedly. "Had a room. Didn't have a whore."

Oh, about clients. "Couldn't get it up?" Jin shrugs. It happens, if they don't take their little chemical helpers.

Junno shakes his head sadly at Jin. "I said not alone. Just not a whore."

Jun looks at his watch. "Well, entertaining as this is, I'm afraid…"

"Though you could say he had a _hoary_ guy," Junno says quickly.

Oh. "Nakamaru."

Everybody's staring at Jin. Junno's blinking rapidly. "You _knew_?"

"Um," Jin says. "Not really. You mean, I'm right?"

Junno gives him an odd look, but then he flips back to chirpy. "Yeah. You're right."

"What the fuck," Jun is muttering under his breath.

"And you know this how?" Tatsuya asks.

"Shota got held up by Kaneda until six this morning," Junno says, and has everyone wincing in sympathy. "Caught Nakamaru coming out of Koyama's room in his bathrobe. Lots of polite bows, friendly smiles, and the minister had a very red face. Tadayoshi gave Misako-chan from housekeeping a kiss and learned that Nakamaru's bed wasn't slept in."

"Nonsense," Jun says derisively. "They're _old_."

"They might just have been drinking together," Tatsuya says.

"They might need more _lubrication_ ," Junno says with a hopeful expression.

Jin says nothing. Not about Nakamaru's uncertainty, and not the talk they had that day. It would fill in some gaps in Junno's theory, kind of.

It's a weird thought; Nakamaru with some other client. But maybe he was serious. Decided escorts aren't for him.

Jin wishes he could stop just like that. He thinks clients aren't for him either.

The one he'll have later likes to _cuddle_ with him. And taste his come on Jin's mouth when Jin's least in the mood for kissing.

He grabs a can of coffee from the fridge and drops himself on the empty couch. Tatsuya gives him a quirky little smile, and Jin tries to smile in return. Tatsuya knows Kame best out of the people here who were… with him. That is also a weird thought.

Jun is wriggling his butt unselfconsciously, trying to smooth out some pinchy-looking wrinkles in the leather. "I saw your DoCoMo guy is back," he says to Jin. "Is he your DoCoMo guy?"

"Yeah," Jin says. "Just relaxations. But, well. Monday."

"Hey, at least he's coming back for more, good for you," Jun says. "Now that Kamenashi's getting it for free."

Jin stares at the coffee and shrugs. It's his default reaction whenever someone brings up Kame, because most of those times it's better if he doesn't say what he's thinking. "Gotta pay the rent somehow, right?" he says instead.

"True," Jun says. "Hey, speaking of. Do you know Sato-san? From Mizuho bank?"

"Not really?" Jin says cautiously. He has vague impressions of a lanky, skinny guy who stares at Jun rather adoringly.

"He's throwing a party for his main account holders. Friday to Saturday. A few of us, a few of the girls from LOTUS. He asked me to recommend some people. It's going to be good money. Interested?"

Jun, recommend him for things? Something somewhere strange, two whole days of clients… "…a party?"

"Yeah, you know. You hang out, you flirt, there's private rooms. Not much different from here, only the money's guaranteed." Jun shrugs. "I think he'd like you. Well?"

Pre-paid whoring. Jin wants to squirm away from it, but… Jun doesn't throw these deals at everybody, and Jin didn't get Yuuya to teach him how to suck strawberries sexily so he could turn down deals worth more than two rests.

"Yes," he says, before Jun can think he's too much trouble. "Thank you. That would be… that would be good. Thank you. I'll… I'm free that time."

Friday night's good. Saturday, too. He rarely spends that at Kame's, anyway. But he'll need to tell him he won't be able to call. And why. And Kame will smile and say it's fine, and Jin almost tells Jun to forget it after all, but that makes no sense, he can't be stupid.

"Thanks," he says again.

"Don't worry," Jun says in an upbeat tone, flinging his leather jacket over his shoulder. "They're mostly old guys, not much staying power. You'll probably get some sleep."

"How is he?" Tatsuya asks suddenly, when the door has closed behind Jun. "It must have been very stressful, all that press attention. Is he sleeping at all?"

Jin blinks. "He's— Okay? Yeah. Stressful. With the press." And he doesn't sleep enough, he's up all the time waiting for Jin, and Jin feels like he's full of shrivelling knots when he thinks of saying that. To Tatsuya. Here at the club.

He always kept the important stuff away from here. But Kame… started here. This is such a mess.

"He's okay, though," he mumbles. "He's been really strong."

"I suppose this is a difficult situation for you both."

Jin looks up quickly, but there's nothing accusing in Tatsuya's tone. "Yeah, well," he says. "I guess."

A month ago he'd have given anything to have someone worry along with him, about Kame. But this is too complicated. Here.

"For what it's worth," Tatsuya says, looking elegant as ever with his teacup and the copper hair framing his face just so, "I wish you luck. Both of you." His head tilts towards the closed door, his mouth quirking up. "And he means well, too."

"Yeah, I think I got that," Jin says, and he nods. "Thanks. I appreciate it. I'll— I'll tell him you asked?" He has no idea how he's going to wrap good wishes from the club in something harmless, but good wishes are important, and Kame and Tatsuya like each other. He'll find a way.

*~*~*

The DoCoMo guy is on time, drinking Jin in from the moment Jin steps into the lounge; Jin arrives two minutes past eight.

The man's got big, slightly watery eyes, which are fixed on Jin as if he's the most precious thing he's ever seen. They get warmer when Jin tilts his head low with a pout, plays with his hair a little. Apparently it makes him adorable.

So it's one drink, and upstairs they go, for clinginess and kissing, Jin throws in bits of conversation because it makes the guy all twitchy and horny. He's discovered it's much easier when he imagines a wall of white noise between himself and the words.

Then Jin holds him through his afterglow; it used to make Jin feel dirtier than any cock he's ever put in his mouth, but it's the details that make this sort come back for more, and Jin can do details. And there's more big eyes, and they'll meet again the coming Monday.

That's one down for next week.

Jin showers with his hair under a shower cap and is back in the lounge by nine. Typical Monday field, coming and going and coming and going. With some luck maybe he'll pick up a third relaxation and still make it to Kame's for midnight.

Satoshi and Shota have linked arms with old Handa and one of his contemporaries and are heading for the concierge desk. In the quieter corner by the wash paintings, Nakamaru is staring at a chess board while Koyama is leaning back with a satisfied smile. Jin's going to leave those two alone.

There's a table where Tsukada and his cronies are hanging out, discussing politics with important faces when they aren't groping the nearest escort, or sometimes combining both activities. They're still a couple escorts short, and Tadayoshi doesn't look like he _minds_ being fondled from two sides at once, but when the fat guy on his left gives Jin an interested glance, Jin produces one of the smooth come-on phrases he's been noting down from Tatsuya recently and takes the man's hand as soon as he has sat down next to him.

"I wouldn't like you to feel that you have to start all over again," he says, placing it on his thigh and pretending to get comfortable underneath.

There's a light, approving squeeze. Okay then.

This one is more work; smarter, and with that edge to his eyes that says he wants something for his money. Jin gives him his best smile over the ridiculous Champagne, pretends that he's worth it.

It takes a while, though, and Jin feels his face slipping sometimes in his old way when the drinks feel too long and Tsukada's jokes are too lame. But the hand stays on him, possessively; Jin thinks this might be worth it indeed.

So he pulls himself together, toasts the man again and leans in closer, close so the hand slips higher on his leg and close enough to smell sweat under the expensive aftershave, and whispers, "I bet you have better anecdotes to tell than this…"

The man gives him a shrewd look, and Jin almost cringes, maybe he got it wrong, it's all so unnatural. But the man seems to like what he sees, just inclines his head carefully and glances at Tsukada. "Once my friend retires, I'm sure I can find something interesting to tell you."

His plump fingers dig into Jin's thigh as if to seal a promise, and okay, fine, that's this one hooked.

It's another ten minutes before Tsukada's horniness trumps his desire to entertain a captive audience; Jin thinks somebody should have a word with Tadayoshi to move the guy on faster next time. But at last they rise, and that means everybody else and their whores get a chance to do the same.

The guy gets the key himself. He's inconveniently quiet in the elevator, but smiling his interest when Jin starts to play with the seam of his pants.

"I like you," he says, pushing Jin against the closed door as soon as they're in a room. "You don't mess around." The thick fingers start tracing his mouth.

"I like you too," Jin says, drops his hands to the guy's belt. He's fine doing him here or on the couch or anywhere. He flicks his tongue out, making the point, but then he leans so it shows off his neck, breathes, "You know what I'd like even more?" There's the noise, just noise. "I'd like to feel you, just taking me…"

He strains a bit, imagines a beat somewhere. The guy gasps.

So they do that. Much better money.

*~*~*

He wraps up quickly for the subway. At least it's warmer now. Satoshi is in the break room, coordinating a shopping list on the phone with Nino, who must have snuck out on a break. Jin waves at him.

So that was a good day. Even better when he catches the last train, doesn't get the twinge of paying a cab fare. Kame likes to pay for that, and mostly Jin lets him, but that's just not the point.

Jin's making money. Making lots of money, fast. That's the point.

He sinks low into an empty seat and peers out over his collar. It's twenty minutes, just long enough he could fall asleep while tunnels and houses snap past outside.

He's exhausted. His hips feel bruised from the last guy. He liked Jin a lot, might be back for more too. The second round took forever. Blow job last is always a hassle, and Jin's mouth is still sore.

He checked that you can't see, though. He thinks he looks normal.

But he still feels the sex in how tired he is, in how much he wants to curl up and not be around anyone, not even four distant strangers on a subway car. He smells the shampoo, and it's just not normal, to be this scrubbed and squeaky-clean at midnight.

Kame won't say anything. Kame will sneak close and not push for anything, and on the one hand that's just another reminder, and on the other it's what makes him smile against the cool zipper of his jacket and feel all warm inside.

Kame is waiting. And they're doing okay, considering.

He hates this fucking job. But the more he does now, the more he lies and gets their dicks hot for him, the faster he can stop.

By the time the train pulls out of Shinbashi, he's stopped thinking about it all. White noise.

 

### Tuesday 14 April

"Always best to do this early in the morning, I say." Kame's lawyer has half a smile on his face as they file into the conference room. There's tea ready for them; pens and paper. For a moment Kame thinks of a casting.

As they take their places around the table, Kame finds it oddly quiet, when he doesn't really mind quiet. He doesn't know what he even expected. Not like he's done this before.

Midori is staring out the window. It's a bright day, a breeze chasing all clouds away. Her mouth curls up in a small smile.

She looks very pretty, the same subtle make-up and careful hair she wears for premieres and parties. An elegant, cream-coloured suit; she's standing tall in solid heels.

Kame spent twenty minutes pondering the colour of his tie, and he feels a sad burst of empathy.

Midori sits down off center, on their side, leaves her lawyer the middle seat. She's calm. Frozen, Kame thinks, but only because he knows her well. She chose to come, and so he's here now too. Just in case, just if there are unexpected things to sort. He thought it wouldn't be respectful to stay away.

"Yamaoka-san," her lawyer says to her when they're all seated. "I think we should start with the main items, if that is all right with you?" He's a senior lawyer here, the same age as Kame's father, and he sounds kind with her. It makes Kame want to curl up and hide, not look them all in the face and talk about money. Between the worrying when he's in public, and the brief peace he finds with Jin, it faded at times just how badly he did her wrong.

So they negotiate. Kame watches the steam rise from the untouched teapot; notes the pens are firm giveaways. Midori's lawyer is the one doing most of the talking, while Midori keeps her hands in her lap and her eyes absent on blue skies and the notes in front of her.

Their proposal is fair, an easy settlement. If he weren't rich, they could even do this informally. Some part of Kame wants her to demand something unreasonable, something outrageous, just so he can give it to her. But they split it all evenly. She gets the house, he gets the city property. He keeps the car, she keeps their art. They split the savings. No alimony, she works herself and doesn't want the remaining ties.

She makes a brittle joke about how she wants a custody arrangement for Kame's parents, but he's fast and stupid, says, "anything, whatever you want," and the moment crumbles.

There are some DVDs she'd like him to take; his own dramas and films, she packed him a box. He doesn't need any of the music CDs but he'd like the ancient lamp that belonged to his grandfather, if she doesn't mind. The family birthday pictures are on his computer, and she asks for a copy. She has a short, hand-written list in front of her that makes him ache whenever he looks at it. The rest is contracts and legal talk, their lawyers earning their fees.

Then they all stand. Kame doesn't know what next, how this works. There's mumbled agreements and timetables, and somehow the lawyers leave, somehow Midori stays and so Kame stays too, and then the door is closed again. It's quiet. Midori stands behind her chair, her hands curled around the white leather back rest. She has that same distant face, pale with the sunlight falling in.

Her nails are done in a light friendly pink. It's a lovely day to be outside. Somewhere in the corridor, a secretary's shoes are clicking loudly as things get printed and organized.

"You've lost weight," Midori says.

She knows he does that when things are in turmoil. Kame nods cautiously. "Yes."

She nods at the table; the lawyers didn't take the papers away. "So this seems all settled then."

"Yes. Unless there was anything…"

"No. No, this all sounds good to me." Her fingers are drumming along where she's holding the chair, and she snorts. " _Good_."

He doesn't know what to say. The things he wants to know he can't ask, he doesn't have the right.

"Was it very bad with work?" she asks then. Her shoulders rise under her slim jacket, her mouth relaxing a little. "I try to avoid the news at the moment."

"Smart choice," Kame says. "I mean— I didn't mean…"

"Yes, I know what you mean. You can just _talk_ , Kazuya. Nothing you say now will make me throw a pineapple at your head."

The image— Not good, Kame thinks, biting his lip, but Midori rolls her eyes, and finally her mouth is relaxing. "So," she says. "How bad was it?"

She would have liked Jin. If things were different, if they were still friends. They both like to tease Kame, have the same take on his stuck-up silences.

"Pretty bad," he admits. "But I still have the drama. It will help that that's on air, once things calm down. And the agency didn't drop me."

"Good for them," she says. "And good for you. Hamaguchi-san is tough. If she hasn't killed you, she'll fight for you."

He'll miss her.

He hasn't missed a moment of the marriage, the pretence, but suddenly the thought that he won't see her, won't know her anymore hits him hard and cold. It's as if the last three years are wiped clean, and he's losing her all over again.

"I think the jury was out for a while on the killing," he says, and her mouth gives that little twitch that says she would find it funny, if they were okay.

"You are a very good actor." There's a sting in it, her hurt.

"I really… I'm so sorry, Midori."

She looks at him for a moment, before rolling her eyes again. "How sad is it that I believe you." She shakes her head. "Getting married… that was pathetic."

"I know."

"I'd feel sorry for you, but I have to admit I've been busy feeling sorry for myself. I should stop that."

"What are you going to do?"

She shrugs, like the question isn't out of line. "Work. Get a new haircut. Get drunk with my still single girl friends. I don't know. Travel, maybe. Spend your money on some onsen time."

"I really—" _I really want you to be happy._

But her eyes are sharp. Pineapples. He gives a laugh, involuntary and inappropriate, and her confusion twists the guilt inside him. "I'm sorry," he says. "I really am."

"Well," she says. "We established that."

"I hope it works out for you," he mumbles. "The onsen. Or the other stuff."

"Yes, fine," she says stiffly. The way she steps back from the chair seems to say this is as much conversation as she wanted.

But by the door, they stop again, with him a few polite steps behind. It's a weird, heavy moment, and he thinks she can feel it too. Most times you don't know when goodbye is so final.

"I haven't told your mother," she says, in that same stiff tone. "If you were still wondering. About your callboy."

Kame nods; he asked her at least to let him know. He knows it's an undeserved favour. "Thank you."

"And I do hope your career recovers," she says. "You are right, it is nobody's business, and it's got nothing to do with your job."

Kame nods again, because he doesn't have words.

There's the door. This is it.

"I don't know what to say now," he says, feeling as awkward and stupid as he ever has in his life, but she threatened him with pineapples if he didn't talk, and she's shaking her head, and he's unsteady and tired, and still so stupid.

She hugs him, quick and bruising; she doesn't say anything either. Then she lets go with a shaky breath and a flat punch against his chest, standing back, looking as wobbly as he feels.

"You were such a jerk," she says, opening the door. She doesn't look at him again as she gets her coat and purse from the helpful high-heeled secretary, just turns and walks away.

~

_Chapter 54 to follow 15/03/2012_


	54. Chapter 54

### Sunday 19 April

"Look, it just makes sense," Kame says when Jin is still sitting in the passenger seat like a kid in detention. "I don't mind picking you up."

"Yeah, okay," Jin says, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

"It was on the way." Kame makes it sound final. It gives them more time, too. They're early anyway, nine on a Sunday, and Kame spent the afternoon skirting the thought, until he cut the denial nonsense and acknowledged that Jin must have had some comfort planned, to know in advance he could take off that early.

And he took off early for Kame. That's what matters.

He sneaks a hand over from the gear shift, and catches Jin's little smile. He's just a normal guy in those jeans, the comfortable sweater. He's on his own time now and the job doesn't matter; there's no need for Kame to make himself do the math on how much time, how many hours since someone else got to touch him.

Then he checks the rearview mirror; monitoring the traffic, being responsible.

He hasn't been this close to the club since it happened.

"I've tested the cooker," Jin says suddenly. "So you won't starve."

"Excellent," Kame says. "Canned tuna, right?"

"Yeah, but I'll heat it up for you." Jin is playing with Kame's fingers, not even teasing. Just happy.

"You know how to show your boyfriend a good time," Kame says, because it's the least sappy thing of all the sappy things swimming through his head.

He checks the rearview mirror again. The streets are just busy enough to make it hard to tell if anybody is tailing them.

"I don't cook as well as you," Jin says, earnestly now. "I got us some very nice Chinese?"

"Sounds great," Kame says, laughing when Jin's touch gets so soft it tickles again.

They get a whole evening. He's so happy, he thinks he'd enjoy stale rice.

*~*~*

Jin goes in first to take the elevator up, while Kame waits near the letterbox a few meters from the door, probably looking like a troubled youth with expensive shades and a crappy phone.

He goes up when it hasn't rung after a minute.

The secret agent antics are embarrassing, but when Jin suggested them, Kame wasn't brave enough to turn them down. Now it doesn't matter. Jin is smiling, welcoming what he says is his first real guest, and then locking the door safely behind them.

"Wonder what the neighbors think of me being home this early," he says in a low voice, biting away a grin.

"That you're on a well-deserved break." Kame glances around; the couch, rich blue like it looked in the e-mail Jin sent him; some new shelves, a small wardrobe next to a tiny TV which is right next to the bathroom, which is right next to… well, everything else. The only clear space is in front of the couch, and it's not much. "Amazing," he says.

"What?"

"It shrunk."

Jin stares for a moment, and next thing he's tackling Kame and complaining that his apartment feels insulted, and they're laughing first and kissing second, and Kame insists that it's a very common disease that affects apartments in their infancy, wall shrinkage.

Then Jin disentangles himself. "I should, um," he shrugs, looking as if he's wearing stiff clothes, not the soft t-shirt and jeans. "I'll just go shower, okay?"

Kame nods, and then he remembers and says, "Wait."

While Jin gives him a curious look, he reaches for the large Mitsukoshi bag he's been trying to be inconspicuous about ever since he got it out of the trunk with his overnight bag.

"Here," he says. "You said I could. Congratulations on your infant apartment."

Jin grins and isn't at all shy about tearing the giftwrap off. "Cool," he says, holding up one of the bath towels. "That would actually go with the couch." He grins at Kame. "In theory, I mean." Kame wants to wrap him up in it when he rubs the towel against his face and goes, "So soft." But then Jin slings it over his shoulder and gives him a wave as he turns for the bathroom again. "Anyway, back in five."

Kame sits down to wait and has another look around. The shelves were cheap, as was the table. The only quality thing is the sofa. And the guitar, which got its own little corner, place of honour. Kame smiles when he remembers Jin after the last Open Mic, a flush stealing over him.

Jin hasn't mentioned Tanaka again. And when Tanaka sent Kame e-mail with a photo of Sakura chasing a beetle, he didn't mention Jin, either. So that's that.

He's just becoming conscious of how much louder the plumbing sounds here than in his own apartment, when the water is turned off. Jin was _really_ quick.

When Jin comes out again, mint-scented steam follows him into the room, and he's wearing a different, bottle green t-shirt. His hair is dry and only a little messed up, the tips damp where they cling to his throat. He's smiling.

"Did I make it in five?"

Kame hadn't even thought of counting. "You were quick," he says.

Jin throws a quick look at the alarm clock on the table beside the bed, and nods to himself.

"Right," he says, "drink, cook? I should have offered you something first."

"I was desperate for a drink," Kame simpers, "and I simply _couldn't_ find your fridge in this vastness."

Jin throws him a dark look, but then he snorts. "Poor little baby apartment." He drops to his haunches in front of the refrigerator. "Red? White? I have ginger beef and szechuan chicken, and dumplings."

Kame sneaks up on him and bends down to ruffle his hair. "I like your apartment. Thank you for inviting me."

Jin peers up backwards. "You're just scared it'll crush you during the night."

Kame decides on white, and Jin brings out a bottle of the same Blanchot Kame sometimes has at the apartment.

"Just making sure it's something you like," he says a little sheepishly when he notices Kame's look, though Kame was only thinking that for the first time he's finding the wine quite expensive. Perspective, they call it.

They toast the apartment, and then Jin sets his glass down on the working surface.

"Listen," he says. "I'm sorry I was so short on the phone last night."

"You weren't short," Kame says. "You were just quiet."

"Yeah, sorry. I was kind of exhausted. And I'd just gotten in and I hadn't even showered, and my brain was all fuzzy."

"It's okay," Kame says. "And you're cute when you're fuzzy."

Jin laughs. "Right."

"How was it?" Kame asks as lightly as he can.

"Hm." Jin looks at the fridge thoughtfully. "Not too bad. Nothing weird. Just…" He meets Kame's eyes. "…exhausting. Thirty hours of no privacy. It's a lot."

"I can imagine," Kame says slowly, and good, okay, this is okay.

"And too many drinks." Jin makes a face. "Too many different drinks."

"Were you okay?"

Jin gives him a little look as if he just noticed he's talking about work and Kame might be imagining god knows what. But Kame is very pointedly not imagining god knows what.

"Yeah," Jin sighs. "I didn't drink _much_. It was more, like, lots of different things getting passed around and you always have a sip, and then it gets kind of…" He makes a wriggly crawly motion with one hand and shrugs.

"That sounds vile." Even without the men in the mix.

"Yeah, I was kind of queasy." Jin frowns darkly into his wine, and Kame finds it suddenly adorable, never mind how they got here. On an impulse, he slides a hand on Jin's poor abused stomach. It goes tight, and Jin breathes in sharply.

"I think you should let me do the cooking," Kame says, petting him. "And rest properly."

Jin seems unsure whether to take this as is or feel offended. Kame puts on a very harmless face, top notch acting right there, and next he feels Jin's giggles under his hand.

"Yeah, definitely," Jin grins. "I might fall over if I operate the microwave."

Kame kisses him. Jin gives a sweet little hum and it's like always, suddenly none of the rest matters.

Jin decides to let him deal with microwaving the Chinese, admitting that Kame has more experience. The food, too, is from a place Kame has used himself. Jin gets busy with the rice cooker while Kame deals with bowls and sauces, still thinking about Jin's weekend, thinking about talking about it. Thinking he did quite well there.

*~*~*

It's a long, wonderful evening, full of lazy driftiness. They eat the good Chinese, tidy up at Kame's insistence, and settle on the couch, Kame with his feet bare because Jin's apartment is warm.

Two hours they sit in a tangle, chatting about this or that while watching some show about a bear on Jin's tiny TV. Later Jin puts on more rock type music and they argue over boys' manga.

It's what normal people must do when they have a night off, when they have time for each other, Kame thinks, and it's weird to remember he never planned for this. He'd have kept paying for smooth, engaging company, and never tried for anything as great as this.

"What?" Jin peers up at him when Kame kisses him on the temple.

"Nothing," he says. Just a slice from that life he wanted with Jin, being normal.

He's never seen his mother with her head resting in his dad's lap while they watch a movie, but they've had years. And his mother never sits still anyway.

Jin is a warm weight, and for once not sleepy. He spends a few minutes grading Kame's hair combing skills and giving him tips for improvement.

"You're very demanding," Kame says.

Jin laughs to himself. "You like it when I am."

He's thinking of Thursday night, too. And it was a relief, to see Jin want so much, asking with his body for more, and deeper, and…

"Tomo says the book-keeping system at the bar really sucks," Jin says randomly. "Now he's had a couple of classes, he can tell."

Thursday; the bar; Tomo. Kame is a little pleased to be able to plot Jin's thoughts for himself. "Can he change it?"

"Hm, probably. I mean, that's kind of the point, but he'll have to ask the manager, who'll have to ask the owner… proper channels and stuff."

"Good, though, if he can make constructive suggestions."

Jin was very constructive on Thursday.

"Hmm. I keep wanting him to make one about the beer," Jin says. "Priorities, you know."

"And they should really get some _Château Lafite_ in," Kame agrees. "No decent place can be without that."

Jin reaches up and tries to poke his nose.

Wrestling lands them on the floor, though they're both being careful wimps, and nobody really wins. At least Jin's tiny table pushes aside easily.

"What time is it?" Kame asks as they're lying next to each other, Jin's foot already fraternizing with the enemy again.

Jin cranes his neck. "Hmm, late," he finds. His foot nudges Kame. "Let me get you into my bed," he says with a very bad villain face.

Kame laughs, and waits for Jin to pull him up. The table has to go into a corner before the bed can come out, and once that's done, Jin looks rather sheepish when there is room for maybe a very skinny person's legs between the bed and the TV shelf.

"I wanted a big bed," Jin says apologetically, "but I guess it makes it hard to move around when it's pulled out…"

Kame lets himself drop on the bed and stretches out in, he's been told, an alluring pose. "You just want me properly trapped," he says.

Jin nods immediately. "Yes. That. Totally. Right here." Jin's still not a good actor, but the bold way he's coming to kneel on the bed gives Kame an unexpected little jolt. He forgets sometimes that Jin is really quite tall, and can look imposing when he tries.

He breathes softly when Jin comes down on top of him, but he can't help fighting back and then they bump noses and Jin says "ow" and Kame laughs helplessly.

They stop rolling around long enough to strip, and then it's just the small lamp on Jin's table and the soft duvet and everything around them in a cozy glow. Jin props himself up on an elbow and traces Kame's lips with a fingertip. "See. Got you right where I want you."

It's intimate, Kame thinks, in a way he's no longer used to. Just them and the four walls so close, and Jin's life all around. "You totally tricked me."

Jin swoops down for a possessive kiss, and Kame feels the heat rising.

"You know where everything is, right?" Jin asks then, with a quick glance at the lamp and, presumably, the bathroom.

Kame kisses him back. "I know where you are."

"The important stuff covered, huh?"

"Yes."

Jin wraps around him, all warm skin and flimsy boxers, not just tall but _strong_ , and Kame gasps as the shivers chase over him. Thursday was just three days ago, abandoned and startling and hot, but maybe they don't have to keep the counter running, maybe they can have it again…

In Jin's bed. It's just swirling round his head, being here, feeling at home here. Jin's new apartment, where they'll be when all the hard stuff is over and there's just _this_.

"A- _ha_ ," Jin says, palming him messily through his boxers, and Kame hisses in a breath.

"Yeah? It's okay?"

Jin is grinning against his neck. "Didn't trap you for nothing, did I." And there's a _lick_ and then a kiss, and Kame feels the rush of pushing closer, god yes, and Jin's meeting him, faster and… now, only… only Jin… Jin's not hard at all.

Kame slows, gently as he can; he should have known it was unreasonable, so soon after, when Jin had work.

"Hey," Jin protests.

"You're not really up for this, are you?" Kame says, petting Jin's hair. It's a job; Jin's tired from his job, it's normal. He won't be disappointed, or anything else.

"But I am! Up for it. Just… not like you mean." He frowns a bit. "Not, like, _up_ , up. But it's great anyway, I want to. Do we really have to stop just because…"

"I just…" It feels like such an old discussion. The worry, things being… off somehow, off balance.

"My house," Jin says, his eyes suddenly darker. "My bed, my rules. Rules say you're not allowed to worry." He's watching Kame from above, not budging, and even with half a grin chasing him he looks determined. When he bends to leave the softest of kisses on Kame's cheek, it's electric. "So let me do what I want."

"Okay," Kame says, horribly squeaky.

Jin's smile is like sunrise, and what he wants…

What he wants is to make Kame shudder with his mouth on Kame's neck and the pressure on his cock until all Kame can do is give up, give in… He bucks up hard and Jin whispers, "yes," hot behind Kame's ear.

Kame holds his breath when Jin's fingers slide inside his boxers; Jin's laughing, victoriously or just pleased with himself, and so hot, and then Jin is kissing him and jerking him and slipping his tongue inside Kame's mouth, and every time Kame pushes up there's Jin's weight, saying he's not going anywhere.

It's so good; Jin's so good, knowing just how Kame works by now, humming along and looking so fucking pleased over him, and Kame could get drunk on this. Letting Jin have his way with him, that sure hand and the strength, Jin _demanding_ again.

Until Jin shifts and starts to move, down.

Scooting along his body and Kame is breathless and still before Jin even gets there, barely lifting his hips when Jin pushes his boxers down and takes hold of his cock again.

"What I want, right?" he says, just hovering, peering up with a look that's just daring Kame to contradict him.

Kame nods. Oh god.

They don't even— not often, because— Jin… Kame is careful, still. But Jin's hands are encouraging, and Jin knows what he's doing and Kame loves it and the thoughts finally shut up.

He closes his eyes, doesn't hush up the sharp breaths Jin is drawing from him; lets Jin tease him purposefully until he's helpless and writhing, his fingers clenched in Jin's hair, every wet sound another jolt up his spine, and then Jin speeds them up mercilessly when it's already too much, and Kame is straining like Jin is wired to every cell in his skin, gasping out a small urgent warning.

Ridiculous, he thinks, he's ridiculous and panting and all over the place, and Jin is perfect, and with him, his touch staying then fading, his thumbs rubbing little circles into Kame's hips as his breathing finally evens out.

Jin moves up to lie along his side, settling with a smile. His leg is a welcome weight, his damp hand playing on Kame's sweaty belly, now and then brushing his shrinking cock.

"Now, was that so bad?" he asks after a while with very lazy concern.

Kame snorts, closing his eyes for a moment. "You are mean. And wonderful." He catches Jin's roving hand— okay, arm, to hold on awkwardly.

Jin grins. How can smug look this good on somebody? "Aren't my rules awesome? I think my rules are awesome."

"Your rules are very…" Something. "…altruistic," Kame admits, once he's got the words together.

"Oh my god!" Jin props himself up and makes big eyes. "You've discovered my disgusting little secret."

What? Kame blinks. He can't think properly with this sex-addled brain.

Jin makes the worst fake-guilty face Kame has seen since he graduated high school dramas. "I like it when my boyfriend has a good time," he whispers. "I'm such a perv."

Kame pokes him in the side that is more easily available, wishing his muscles were less useless so he could tackle Jin like Jin deserves. "You're unbearable."

"What?" Jin pouts. "I was opening up to you here. About my dark perversions."

"See, that's why we never do it like this, because I can't handle your brain when it's like this and mine's like… this."

Jin leans over to kiss Kame's pitiful head. He traces Kame's eyebrows, his smile a lot less giggly, a lot more aware as Kame catches up with himself. Yeah. That's not why they never do it like this.

"I really like it, though," Jin says, his fingertips on Kame's nose now. "I'm glad you let me."

"That's pretty funny," Kame says, only it's not really.

Jin shakes his head. "No, I mean… I can't always… well, you _know_ I can't always. But it feels good with you like this too, I want to have that."

Kame licks his lips, feeling the complexities tying their knots around him again. "Sorry," he says, because he feels he should. "I'm sorry I get…"

Jin kisses him. "I get it, okay? I know it's tricky. Just, I want you to know."

Kame nods. All those tricky things, things Kame doesn't want to think about now, doesn't want to have in here, in their bed in Jin's apartment.

And then he doesn't, because Jin scoops him up and pulls him into a hug, holding him safe in the mood.

"I love you," Jin says against the top of his head, and Kame breathes out slowly.

"Your rules are okay," he mumbles against Jin's chest, feeling him laugh, and he doesn't think about all the things he can't change, that Jin can't change, that Jin won't change. In here, the way Jin calls the shots feels good.

 

### Monday 20 April

"I had to leave. I couldn't stand being near you, when you were so out of reach… " Kame feels the hurt everywhere, knows it's cracking through the facade, settling in his shoulders. Braced for the slap, the sting. "And I can't give you what Daisuke-kun can give you."

The girl looks at him with wide fearful eyes and folds her hands in her lap. The plastic chair gives a tiny plastic squeak in the utter silence. The light behind her is uncomfortably bright, distracting Kame for a moment. He feels sweaty and watched, and he should have asked for water.

The girl is no actress, but she doesn't have any lines either except one awkward, "But what about your brother… " From her stiff blushing glances they ordered her here. A secretary, most likely.

Kame takes a deep, shuddering breath. "If you tell me to go, I'll never touch you again."

There's a snort.

"Thank you," comes a deep male voice. Normally it would bring Kame back out of the scene with a jolt, but he had to fight to even get into it, here where he's been aware of their eyes ever since he walked in. It's not one of his usual stations. People in the halls aren't tired yet of gawking at scandal Kamenashi.

Kame gives the girl a friendly nod and turns to face the table up front, trying to look confident on a wobbly plastic chair in the middle of the room. It's five people, all guys. Kame didn't know they needed the composer for this.

He hated auditioning when he was younger. It's like tests back in school, only more crushing. They look you right in the face and tell you they don't like you. They say things like—

"A very interesting interpretation," says the same man who stopped him, his pen making little scratchy sounds.

"Well, that… yes, very interesting," the most senior of them says, looking Kame up and down with a smile. Next to him is a middle-aged man who's a co-producer, and a younger guy with idol hair and trendy glasses. The young one hasn't looked Kame in the eye since he got in.

This is a pilot episode. It includes a visit to a mother's grave, a funny little exchange with a dentist, and a long raving monologue at the end about lost chances.

The secretary tiptoes to the back of the room without any more fuss. Kame shifts his legs and feels like a girl, sitting so tidily.

There's murmuring going on at the table, subtle laughter.

"Thank you," Kame says at last. "For the opportunity."

The middle-aged guy nods graciously. "Yes. Thank you for coming out. We really thought this might be an interesting role for you." He's the only one looking at Kame.

"Thank you," Kame says again. "I would be happy to try out one of the other scenes? As I mentioned on the phone, it's a very intriguing script." It's in fact a pretty dull romance except for that raving monologue, but Kame hasn't gotten a new gig since the cook drama, and he needs one. He needs this.

"Ah… " The guy makes an understanding face. "You know, this was really such a key scene. I don't think we should infringe upon your time any longer."

Thank you, and don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.

Kame doesn't flush, doesn't cringe. He's got years of practice, when they hated him for his eyebrows or his ambition or because they were assholes, and there's a role he plays, the guy who doesn't care what anyone thinks, and it helps. It even keeps his heart from speeding up, all through goodbyes and bows, the young hip guy keeping enough distance to suggest gay is the new SARS.

Then he's outside the door. It closes, to voices and laughter, and then he's just Kazuya, and his face is burning and there's nowhere to hide.

What fucking assholes.

They look at him in the corridors, too. Make-up people, secretaries, some guys in construction overalls who nudge each other, eyes travelling up all along his body. Two guys drinking coffee, and out of the corner of his eye he catches them laughing, a hand swishing around in an affected flourish.

He walks to his car.

Suck it up. He asked for it.

There's his car, shiny and big, and he's got this classy remote smart key, he's rich and he doesn't need this stupid project and he never needs to work again if that's what it's going to be like. It could have been so much worse.

It's worth it.

Fucking assholes.

He slams the car door shut behind him, furious that he actually spent time thinking about this loser of a character and his whiny eternal love.

He drives four blocks because he is _not_ having this conversation in sight of the studio, they won't get to see the faggot have a meltdown. Then he pulls over and yanks out his phone.

"I'm not getting it," he says as soon as Hamaguchi picks up. Better get it over with.

"I told you so," she says. "Yamada is a jackass."

"It was a fucking set-up! I don't know what they were trying to show…" Only he does. Though she didn't predict quite how badly they would jerk him around. "They let me read for that silly romance scene and were sniggering the whole time."

There's quiet, before she says, "I see." It's the sound of someone landing on Hamaguchi's shit list. Kame finds it oddly satisfying.

He gives her a few more details and she asks him not to take it personally. "I'll call you when I have the official word. Don't get drunk in bars, don't pick fights, just remember they're _assholes_ and leave it at that." The instructions sound weird, but in the weeks since the scandal they've been talking more, and she's told him some choice stories about former clients of hers, so by now he knows where it comes from.

"I'm driving," he says, and she laughs.

He rings off, fishes around in his bag for a bottle of water. That helps. He's just checking the mirror for how deflated he looks when his phone rings again.

"That was fucking fast," he snarls over his stomach dropping.

"Hello, Kazuya," his mother says. "I did wait until the weekend was over…"

"Oh," Kame says. "Hi." It's like a jump between dimensions, normal words won't really come. "Hi mom. How's— things?"

"Better here than there, sounds like. Were you trying to swear at anybody interesting?"

His stomach clenches. He's never told them what sort of shit he's getting. "No, just my agent." Then he realizes how that sounds. "Not _at_ her, I mean. We're just… we're just waiting for some assholes to call."

"Assholes," she repeats, sounding like somebody trying out words like 'sock' or 'elephant' in a foreign language.

But she's not fooling him, she's not interested in his language, she's just waiting until he's good and ready to tell her what it's about.

Maybe they've been getting the same shit from the neighbours. "It's nothing serious," he says. He won't whine; he's done enough already. "Just a part I'm not getting. It's not even a good part."

There's a thoughtful pause at the other end, and he pictures her pinching a leaf off a begonia. She likes to wander about while talking on the phone.

"Well," she says practically, "maybe you could wait a while, save your energy for dealing with unpleasant people who have _good_ parts to offer."

It's so sensible, and suddenly he misses her, and god, he should not sit here and feel sorry for himself in his car. But he wishes he didn't think of Midori and the lies every time they speak.

"Yes, maybe," he says. It's just that he wants to work, even if he doesn't need to. He's always wanted to work.

"It'll be easier in a few months," she says, as though she's reading his mind.

"Yeah."

"And maybe in the meantime, you'll find a few hours to visit?"

Shit. He ran into that. Time and again she's let him off on the phone because he's in a rush or sounding stressed or, well, just out of an audition where he got treated like a circus attraction. But if he goes out there…

"It's been months since we've seen you," his mother says mildly. "I can't even tell whether you're eating right."

He laughs. "Oh, don't worry… " But he can't mention Jin. "I'm being made to eat lots of pasta."

"Pasta is nice," his mother says helpfully.

"Yes," Kame says. "And Chinese. That's nice too." God how dumb. Could evading your mother make you stupid?

"I have a new recipe for a yakiniku marinade," she says, and he could almost swear that she's biting her lip and trying not to laugh at him.

He should really get it over with. He could make it a Saturday, which has nothing to commend it anyway. At least it means he won't be missing out on time with Jin.

"I suppose," he says, "maybe I could… I just need to check whether… "

"And why don't you bring your young man along?"

There's a pause. Kame can hear the cars rushing outside, and his brain being useless on the inside.

"I'm sorry," she says, and for a moment he thinks she's nervous. "I think I forgot his name… "

He's never told her. "Jin."

"Yes. Jin. Well, why don't you talk to him, about a date that would suit you, and then the two of you come around together?"

Kame is staring out the windscreen, his heart still hammering, which is silly because his mother is… what is she doing? She's— trying to be progressive?

This day couldn't get any weirder.

"I'll ask him," he says, realizing that will at least give him time to think.

"A weekend would be good, of course." She sounds much firmer now. "Your father would really like to see you too."

"Yeah," he says in a croaky voice, but she doesn't call him on it. "He— Jin works weekends but—" Oh god. "I'll ask him."

"Great, I'm glad to hear it. You take care and get home safely now, dear."

A weekend, so his father can be there too. His father and his mother and Jin. In their house.

"Thanks, mom," he says, before they hang up.

So that… okay. So he's sitting in a car again, staring stupidly ahead. At least this time he's not smoking.

Finally, he hides the phone in his pocket, and puts the car into motion. Time to get home. Ask Jin if Jin wants to eat yakiniku on a Sunday with Kame's parents.

 

### Tuesday 21 April

"So how was work?" Kame asks casually. He sips at his wine, relaxed in his slacks and shirt.

"Fine," Jin says automatically. Relaxation with Yamatani, which is always fine, and a comfort with KitaKen, there's a first. Maybe it's that by now he can actually hold his own in a conversation about force plays and fastballs. "One of the cleaning ladies had brought her dog to work on the sly, and Satoshi couldn't stop sneezing." Kame won't want to hear about KitaKen. But Jin's running out of these anecdotes.

Kame nods attentively. "I hope she didn't get in trouble."

Jin reassures him they kept it all from Ootomo and blamed it on some evil pollen, then asks, "How was yours?" in return.

"Fine," Kame says. "Just the usual. Not a big episode for the cook at the moment."

Jin is instantly alarmed, but Kame shakes his head. "Just the script, sister backstory. It's all good there."

They're at the kitchen table, Jin picking at his dinner, Kame watching him.

There's music. It feels quiet anyway.

"How's the apartment coming along?" Kame asks after a moment. "Do you have internet yet?"

Jin shakes his head. "No, I'm still looking… well, I don't have a computer yet either. It's really not urgent."

"Ah, of course." Kame's face says he's thinking about computers. Thinking about offering, thinking that Jin will turn him down. His smile is a little vague, and Jin shrugs, equally vague.

He doesn't like that this is so complicated. Complicated and layered, and Jin doesn't like half of the layers.

"Thanks for coming by tonight," Kame says next. "I mean, I know it's inconvenient tomorrow…" He even manages not to look like he cares Jin has a standing appointment Wednesday lunchtime.

That's why Tuesday nights have gone from their nights to weird nights, and Jin usually avoids them, but he couldn't make it yesterday and… "Well, I wanted to," he says. Kame doesn't have to be so grateful.

He puts his fork down, wants to thank Kame for dinner, and suddenly Kame has reached for his hand in a nice, secure grip. It makes everything easier, just like that.

Jin smiles. "Do you think you're still up for a movie?" He doesn't know which one, but just something fun to cuddle to will be great.

"Yeah, in a bit," Kame says. "I'd love that."

"Cool."

Kame nods. "So, um. I want to ask you something."

It sounds ominous, but Jin tries not to jump to conclusions. Such as more career tips, or computer presents after all, or… "That's allowed," he says generously, and Kame pinches his fingers.

"I'm serious," he says. "Do you think there's a chance you could take one Saturday or Sunday off in the next few weeks?"

Oh. Those are the days the money rolls, and Ootomo… but it depends. Surely it's not unheard of, if you have a boyfriend… "I can try," he says carefully. "Why?"

"My parents would like to meet you."

"You… what— they. _Me_?"

Kame laughs, but it sounds nervous. "You're the only new boyfriend I've got." He gives a little shrug and he doesn't let go of Jin's hand. "Mom talked to me on the phone yesterday. And asked."

"Isn't that… I thought they liked, you know. Your wife." Jin can't really imagine being welcome.

"They did. They do. But I'm sure they'll like you too, when they get to meet you."

Jin doesn't know whether to laugh or shudder.

Kame makes a face. "Okay, that does sound lame."

"Yeah," Jin laughs. He'll save the shuddering. For later. "It does."

"I think they're trying. You know they've been really good about… all this. And I haven't shown my face around there for a while, I really should go. But it has to be a weekend because my dad still works."

That… right. Kame's dad.

But Kame's dad let Kame be an actor, when Kame could have been a baseball player, and he called Kame on the day it happened. Jin shouldn't think in clichés either.

Moms aren't always nicer anyway.

And Kame is kind of not breathing. Jin also shouldn't kill their son before that weekend. "Okay. Sure. Just pick a day, I'll square it with Ootomo."

He watches Kame take a slow breath, and Kame looks pleased, no doubt about it. Not worried. So that's good, too.

Jin will maybe pay attention to the news a bit more so he's got normal stuff to talk about. Just so they don't think he's boring, or too stupid for their son, or something like— wait.

"Um, they… they don't know, right?" he says. "About me, what I do? They didn't say anything…?"

"No," Kame says quickly. "No, that's the only thing they… I thought it's easier, for you and for them?" He looks worried again, as if he's afraid Jin will be hurt that Kame isn't proud of his whorey job.

"That's great!" Jin says. "You're totally right. I was just… we'll need to think… will the waiter thing work?"

"I'm sure it will." Kame's smile for Jin is reassuring, though he's twirling his glass weirdly and Jin almost wants to take it off him. "I suppose we could try not to dwell on it? Maybe you can tell them more about your plans for the future."

Yeah, better, Jin thinks. And imagines himself telling Kame's parents that his ambition in life is to become a car mechanic and he didn't even manage to do that much before turning twenty-one, but— okay. It's not whoring. "I can totally do that," he says, confidently enough that Kame stops fiddling with his glass and finds another smile.

"Are you tired yet?" Kame asks after it's been quiet for a bit.

Jin's not tired. Just thinking about parents. "No," he says. "Movie, right?"

But once they've moved to the couch, they flip through Kame's Blu-rays haphazardly and it's like neither of them is really keen. Almost in unison, they sigh.

"Maybe sometime we can drive somewhere," Kame says, sounding random and a little guilty as he brings his feet up on the couch.

"It's too early for that," Jin says. "What if you ran into press?"

"I know," Kame says. "Still…" It's the thing with his ex again, Jin thinks. The ex whom Kame never introduced to his parents, they didn't even know he was there…

He wonders what they're like together, Kame and his parents. Thinks of a nice family Sunday and thinks he should get over his desire to have a drink when he merely imagines it.

Oh. Shit. Sunday.

"It would be nice," he says, smiling so Kame knows he appreciates the thought. And to warm up. It still takes a bit of a run-up to tell Kame about appointments. "But, uh, I just remembered. Next Sunday… I won't have time, I can't get out of that. For a drive, or for… you know, visiting. Your folks. But any other time!"

Kame makes his serene, understanding face. "Of course," he says. "Work?"

"Yeah." Jin shrugs, tries to put an apology in it even though he wouldn't make one out loud, that would be stupid.

"No problem."

"It's just, it's not even long, just… I already said yes," Jin adds. "But I should be back— at the club, I mean, I'll be there around seven, I can take calls there. In breaks. And maybe get away early." This is more detail than Kame needs, but Kame's got his blank face on and is nodding away.

"Sure. That would be nice. Thanks for the heads-up." His fingers are flipping through the Blu-rays again.

Jin wants to stop them but doesn't know if he should.

He hates how it can get like this. They did nothing except some organizing. If only he could let Kame know these things without having to say them, without Kame thinking about… stuff.

Kame is handling the puppy film, a harmless little line between his eyebrows. His foot is getting cozy with Jin's on the upholstery between them.

On the coffee table is his copy of Shounen Jump; he started reading that here last Sunday, because you can't always talk, and they're becoming so comfortable with each other. Kame was reading a newspaper.

"Are you okay?" Jin asks.

"Of course," Kame says. And looks up at Jin and smiles.

 

### Sunday 26 April

Kame is hesitating still in the parking garage. He doesn't know what's more pathetic, that he's here or that he's sitting in his car for half a minute, debating with himself the reasons why he shouldn't be.

But he gets out of the car, goes up the familiar stairs, and stops the lines from running in his head. One thing he doesn't want to be anymore is rehearsed.

The lobby is empty, the restaurant still quiet. Through smoky-dark glass doors he can see waiters congregating in a corner, with someone who looks managerial.

The bouncer merely looks welcoming. It's the huge one, and he says, "Have a pleasant evening, Kamenashi-sama," waving him through to the second door.

His stomach is rolling, and for the first moment or two the pomp and glitter is overwhelming. It's almost like he's new.

He scans the crowd with the same trepidation. It's quiet, too. Sunday, but early. Most people with sudden impulses have them later in the day. There are young escorts in front of the big TV screen, waiting for things to get busier. Jin would wait there too.

But Jin isn't here. Jin is out, in bed with some guy.

Nobody's making eye contact. Tsukada's glance slides over him and away, and he can see other clients cautiously drop their gaze, like they might catch scandal off him. The escorts bow nervously, and don't seem to know what to do about him.

Takuya-san is by the bar, looking at some photos with the tall Korean. He's not nervous when he sees Kame, and his smile is a warm, reassuring greeting.

Takuya-san likes him. He'll understand, not make him feel weird.

But Kame has to swallow his unease. It's harder with someone else there.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt your conversation," he says with a bow.

They bow back and Jaejoong slowly starts to pocket the photos, regarding him with badly concealed interest. For a moment Kame wonders what will happen if Takuya says he's busy here with a colleague, and Kame and his bad day will have to wait.

"How nice to see you again," Takuya says. "No need to apologize." He gives Jaejoong a gentle look and the man bows at them both before he retreats.

"I'm sorry," Kame says again, not even sure why. "Ootomo-san said… you were still in."

Takuya gives him a quirky little half-smile. "Ootomo hinted I might want to wait. Before I take up any appointment."

"I appreciate it." Kame looks at the gleaming bottles behind the bar, glances around the half-empty lounge, all the people pretending not to see him here. "Would you… would you be able to spare me an hour?"

*~*~*

They're in a standard room, just like the first time they went upstairs together. Takuya has taken off his jacket and made himself comfortable on the couch. He's telling a story about kaidan tansu and seventeenth-century tax evasion while Kame makes them tea in the delicate porcelain set.

It's soothing, and he thinks maybe this isn't going to be so bad; but as soon as he has put two full cups on the table and sits down as well, he's nervous again.

Takuya thanks him and takes a careful sip. Waits, and takes another one. Kame is trying to find a start.

When the silence stretches, he looks up to find Takuya regarding him over the rim of his cup. "Is this about Jin?"

Kame feels the blood shoot into his face; he doesn't even know why. He nods. "I hope you don't mind. I just need some…" _I need Jin to stop, I need to stop thinking about it, I need him, I need help._ "I don't know what else to do."

Takuya purses his lips thoughtfully. "It can't be easy," he says. "Dating someone in my line of work."

"Yeah." Kame clears his throat. "Yes, that's pretty much…" He shrugs again. "It." Thinking of Jin with those men. Always pretending to be so fine with it.

Takuya nods.

"I'm sorry, and I know it's not easy on him either…"

Takuya tilts his head in quiet reproach. "There's no need to apologize," he says, and this time it's more than a phrase.

Kame takes hold of his own tea cup; he even knows it's a prop. "I could really use some advice," he says. "From someone who maybe understands both our perspectives."

"I'll be glad to help if I can," Takuya says.

Kame hesitates for all of ten seconds before he blurts out, "I just don't understand it. I understand he wants to be independent, and I know he doesn't have an education and all that, I know about all those issues. But I have money, he'd be okay. And he doesn't even like it." It's a relief just to say it like that, for once not have to dance around it. He gives Takuya a guilty look, but Takuya is merely pondering Kame's little summary.

"I understand you're not giving him money at the moment, yes?"

"No. We don't want that anymore."

There's a little smile playing around Takuya's mouth, and Kame feels like a blushing boy again. "Yes, that's what I thought."

"Yeah. But still. As a… a safety net…" The fact that he could buy Jin three apartments in central Tokyo should make a goddamn difference.

"It can work, you know. There are people here who've made it work for a long time," Takuya says, but when Kame looks at him, he gives a little sigh. "Have you asked him to stop?"

"No," Kame says. "Yes. Sort of. Not really." He shrugs. "I don't want to pressure him. And he's told me— he says he doesn't want pressure about it."

"Hmm. That does sound very complicated," Takuya says. "And hard on both of you."

"I just don't understand it," he whispers, more deflated than the first time. "He hates it. And I hate it. It feels awful."

There's a longer, heavy quiet. Kame stares down into his cooling tea, lets Takuya think whatever he's thinking, knows he's got nothing to show for himself except that he's whining about Jin, and feeling miserable.

"From what I understand," Takuya says slowly, "Jin has found his way here on one of the more typical career paths. Someone like that has a rather different appreciation of the stakes when you let go of something as secure as this." He gestures around, looking elegant and beautiful still. "Even I have my reasons for still working here instead of freelancing, and it isn't my burning desire to finance Ootomo's pension."

"But I'd be there," Kame protests. "I'd never let that happen to him again."

"But does he know if you'll work out, long term? What happens if – forgive me – you tire of him? Or he of you? Not all relationships last. What if he ends up depending on you, and then he wants to leave, and he can't?"

"But we—" Kame falls silent.

Takuya has never looked on him so kindly, and it's worse than any criticism. "It's hard with a place like this, when you want out but can't afford to leave. It's much harder still when you can't leave someone you used to love when it's no longer good."

That's an awful thought, Jin wanting to leave, not being able to… Jin being trapped again. "I guess we never know," Kame says; it comes out pathetic and toneless.

Maybe it's like the contract. Tanaka's contract, the contract they haven't mentioned again. Maybe Jin fears that Kame's interest in him could also have a termination date. Or his in Kame.

"It would be easier if the two of you weren't so idealistic about his present day finances," Takuya says with a little smile. "If he was willing to use your resources now to get himself some other career, something that would last… well, that would be easier for the future."

"He's saving up to become a car mechanic. But I don't think he wants me to pay for that."

"If you asked him to let you pay for half of it?" Takuya muses, then makes a face. "My apologies. I'm sure you weren't looking for bartering tips."

"No, that's…" Kame shakes his head. That's miserably constructive. Not what he wanted, what they wanted. But sometimes another week seems too long.

"It may be worth bearing in mind," Takuya adds, "that Jin and I are in very different positions. I like my clients. I have other options now but I still choose this job. I choose my clients, I don't see anybody I don't want to see, and what we do together is not merely some task." His soft look makes Kame miss, just a little bit, times when things were easier. "I don't think Jin is quite so fortunate."

Jin hates the job, has to go with anybody.

"Yeah," Kame says. "Okay."

"So I would perhaps say that you shouldn't worry he's doing this lightly, or because he doesn't care for your feelings on this matter."

"I'm not," Kame protests. Jin and his traditional career path. Kame gets that, he does. It just doesn't help sometimes. "He tries really hard to make it sound like he's just been to the office," he admits, and finds a shaky laugh somewhere. "Tells me about gym accidents and allergies."

Takuya smiles, and Kame has to look away for a moment because this still sucks. For all the allergies and accidents and Jin's consideration of his feelings. It still sucks.

"Takuya-san," he says, and he's never asked such a personal question before, but he doesn't care anymore. "If it were you… I mean, if you had— a boyfriend." For all he knows Takuya might have one; his face is giving nothing away. But not bidding Kame to stop either. "Would it affect how you— if you're always… with other people, would it not… with him, wouldn't it change the feeling? Make it… like that? Just more of that?" He can't even put together what he really means, what it is like to have these other people touching their life together, and how close things get to Jin.

Takuya considers that, some hesitation in his frown. "I can only speculate," he says in the end. "But I would imagine that your relationship is a welcome break from what he has to do at work, not an extension of it. All aspects of your relationship. It does make a difference whether you really want to be with someone or not. I think you know that much yourself."

Kame isn't sure what he's referring to, Kame's dealings with escorts or Kame's relationship with his wife. It doesn't matter anyway, because it's true, and he nods.

Takuya smiles. "So just remember that. You're the one he can choose, the one he has chosen." He tilts his head and gives a small nod. "I think he has chosen very well, Kazuya-san."

"It doesn't really feel like it," Kame says, though the praise touches him against his will. "I'm not sure I'm handling this well."

"As long as you only complain to me," Takuya says, with a conspiratorial face. "And we specialize in discretion."

That makes Kame laugh too, even though he didn't think anything about this was funny.

"I think you're doing the right thing," Takuya says finally. "Not pressuring him, and taking him seriously. The rest will come."

Kame nods. He's been holding on to that for weeks. But he takes a breath, lets it go deep down, and just for a moment feels less alone, less cooped up in his own head with this. It helps to have said it, just once, out loud, without having to dance around it all the time. "Thank you," he says.

"If you don't mind telling me, how did it come about?" Takuya is looking genuinely interested. "I know you were concerned about how, shall we say, non-contractual relationships might impact your career."

Kame bites back a smile. Takuya has a way with words.

But he sobers quickly when he thinks of what to answer. "It's a long story," he says eventually. And one he's ashamed of.

Takuya doesn't push. Takuya never pushes. He just inclines his head. "One day you should tell it to me."

It's weird how he even wants to, and knows he could trust Takuya-san with it. But it's too fresh, too early. A long story that doesn't have an ending yet.

"Give us some time," he says, and Takuya gets that too. It has to stop feeling like this first.

~

_Chapter 55 to follow 22/03/2012_


	55. Chapter 55

### Sunday 26 April

Jin gets to the club at seven, after a listless subway ride and an even more listless lack of Kame e-mails. It's tough when he has to tell Kame about specific assignments. He spends half the time imagining Kame imagining it, and it's not good.

At least the guy liked him. Jin dumps his stuff in the empty break room and grabs a towel, to go wash off all that appreciation. Nobody else on the floor, just a few muffled sounds from the gym. Seven is prime time for the lounge.

Back from the shower he realizes he needs a new suit, this one got all crumpled. And he's got mail, he finds when he empties the pockets. Not Kame. He's not too disappointed it's Tomo, that's also good. He smiles.

Tomo's bitching about his accountancy homework, some thing with spreadsheets Jin doesn't even understand. Jin laughs at the exclamation marks meant to convey Tomo's despair. _But don't tell Emi-chan I whined about it,_ followed by a smiley with its hairs on end. Jin remembers they just told her parents about the engagement.

He's just about to hit reply when a second mail comes in. From Yuuya. Who ought to be working.

_Heard u got in, r u okay? Gummy's hands down my pants but if u need to talk, let me know!!!_

There are quite a few typos in it. Jin frowns. He didn't _think_ the guy from this afternoon had a reputation.

He's just sending off his reply to Tomo, _Ask your little brother, sure he knows what it means!_ , when the door opens, Danny with a damp towel around his neck and his curls plastered to his face.

"Oh god," he says. "Jin."

"Hi to you too," Jin says. "You're pretty late for the gym."

"Yeah…" Danny is frowning, looking around as if he's hoping to find some other colleagues hiding under the bench or in one of the lockers. "You… has anybody talked to you?"

What? "No, I just got here."

He's sure Danny is swearing under his breath, and now it's getting spooky. Is there some STD pandemic going around? Have they all been sacked?

"Okay," Danny says, wiping his face erratically with his towel. "Okay, don't freak, okay?"

"Okay," Jin says, and thinks this has to be a little freaky for Danny to… oh god journalists, or something, something with Kame…

"It's just," Danny says, "Junno told me he was talking to Jiro, and he heard from Jun that Jaejoong saw your… your boyfriend here earlier."

Jin blinks. "Here? Kame?"

"I only heard it from Junno," Danny says. "But, uh, yeah. He was talking to Kimura-senpai in the lounge. And he says that Jaejoong said to Jun that they went upstairs."

No journalists. No sacking, either. Right.

"Uh-huh," Jin says.

Danny holds up his hands. "Sorry, man. I thought I'd warn you, just passing it on."

Seems like everyone's joined in that effort. "Sure," Jin says. "Thanks." He turns back to his locker to get some clothes on.

Weird. But, well. Kame and Kimura-senpai go back a bit, maybe they had some unfinished business. And Kame hasn't been out much, with how safe they're playing it.

When he's ready to go down, Danny is still postponing his shower, apparently just so he can eye Jin warily.

"See you later," Jin says, trying not to frown. And off he goes.

*~*~*

It's a Sunday crowd, just thinning out with people getting down to business. One relaxation, Jin thinks. That's not too much to ask. Then he can get out of here.

He doesn't know if he'll go to Kame's. It can get weird when Kame knows he's had a client and for what. They can talk on the phone, maybe. Jin will think harder about some club stories where not even Kame can think of other guys' cocks anywhere near Jin.

He tries to catch some client's eye, but nobody seems unattached at the moment. The drunk businessmen in the Chrysanthemum corner don't pay him a single glance, but Takahisa looks up at him, his face freezing in a desperate kind of half-smile.

Time to join somewhere, where to join…

Jun is entertaining a small crowd, but when their eyes meet he gets a weird look on his face. Right, not sitting there. Then he sees Yuuya with Snapping-Dentures-Guy and waves. No problem here, he hopes his smile says, no urgent need to talk. Definitely no urgent need to talk.

He gets it, totally gets it, that Kame didn't want to come here when he might see Jin at work. It's hard enough on him at a distance.

Jaejoong and Tadayoshi are conferring in low whispers, their glances slipping in Jin's direction. Jin thinks they're debating something.

Okay, he'll get himself a drink first. Find his newly honed skill of not giving a fuck, and just sit down somewhere. Just one blow job, and he can get home.

"Jin," Jaejoong says. He's followed him to the bar and his face is full of worry. Oh man. "Do you have a moment?" His frown looks like there is some major gearing up going on behind it.

"Is this about Kamenashi-san and Kimura-senpai?"

Jaejoong nods doomfully. "You have heard?"

"Yeah. Danny told me that… Danny told me. Thanks for the concern, but it's cool."

"You knew?"

Jin shrugs. Can somebody come hit on him, please? "He can talk to whom he wants," he says.

There aren't many people Kame talks to right now. Kimura-senpai is a great guy. Sure he could have said something, but, well.

"I think they went upstairs together."

Yeah, well, if everybody keeps badgering you downstairs, that's not where you want to be. "Thanks," Jin says, and reminds himself Jaejoong means well. They're just looking out for him. But he's not going to discuss Kame with them either. "Really, it's cool."

Jaejoong gives him a suspicious look, but all he says is, "If you say so."

"Thanks," Jin says again, and looks around. "Not much of a selection here tonight…"

"I saw Eda-san a short while ago," Jaejoong offers helpfully.

For once, a story that didn't make it to everyone and their little hamster. "I'm no longer dealing with him," Jin says. "If you want to go after him…"

Jaejoong says, "Maybe," but it sounds doubtful. And then the concierge comes up to them.

"Jin-san, Ootomo-san would like to talk to you in his office."

For a moment Jin's heart skips. Ootomo too?

*~*~*

"…quite pleased, quite pleased with you, they were."

Well, yay. It's not about Kame. It's about that stupid party. Jin's not really keen on a play-by-play, but at least… it's not about Kame. And he's so not going to blush. He's been up here for worse than having his fucking praised.

"Especially one of them… I believe the two of you met on the morning?"

Oh, him. "Yeah."

"He's not a member, but, well, he has excellent connections, and he's quite the important business partner for Sato-sama. I was wondering if he might be an interesting addition to our club members, were he given the chance…"

"Uh," Jin says. He got called up here to be a character witness?

"Well, you have first-hand experience with the man, it would be a shame not to use that!" Ootomo says greedily.

"I don't know…" Who really knows. Maybe it's a longer phase. But if he doesn't say anything, and later it's an issue, well. "Not sure it'll be his thing, longterm."

Ootomo looks concerned. "Not solvent?"

"No, he's just, kind of… straight."

Ootomo makes an 'oh' face, blinks a few times, and seems to embark on some complicated mental readjustments.

Jin waits it out, pretends he's somewhere warm.

"But he did spend time with you?" Ootomo asks eventually.

That's a new phrase for it. "Yeah," Jin shrugs. "Seemed to feel like experimenting." He shrugs again. He doesn't like the way Ootomo's eyes are crawling over him, with a weird sort of curiosity. It reminds Jin of when Ootomo first stumbled across him in Shinjuku, and Jin didn't know if it was his mouth or the state of his clothes.

"And it went all right?" Ootomo asks, which is totally unnecessary, really. "He knew… what he was doing?"

"He was fine," Jin says. "But, well, I don't know. About a membership."

Ootomo finally stops studying Jin as if he's seeing him for the first time all over again. "Hm, you may be right. But he did ask for you again. For a whole night. Sato-sama passed on the request. Are you interested?"

Sure Jin's interested. Who turns down a rest? Not Jin, certainly; it's his first after Kame, if you don't count the party.

"Excellent," Ootomo says. "I'll get back to you about the time. Was there anything else?"

Jin thinks. It might be the best opportunity he'll get. "Actually, I was wondering… could I get one Saturday or Sunday off? Just once," he adds quickly. "In the next few weeks? I have to go somewhere and it won't work during the week…"

Ootomo gives a sigh, but it looks more token than heartfelt. "Yeah, okay. Just warn me, all right?" Okay, Straightboy and his friends _really_ must have liked him.

He bows gratefully, and finally gets to go somewhere it's not twenty below.

He finds Kame's voice-mail when he goes to the toilet. _Jin, I was hoping… but anyway, I know you're busy, I just called to… well I should have called sooner… I had some time and met up with Takuya-san today, to talk a bit. I hope you don't mind. I missed you last night._

It sucks when Kame's calls go to voice-mail. More imagining, Jin in the middle of seducing some guy, or sucking some guy, or whatever. But he must have been worried about what Jin might hear.

Just because he went and talked to somebody for a change. Like he can do anything about Kimura-senpai's job any more than he can do anything about Jin's.

He writes an e-mail back that it's cool, and that he doesn't know yet when he'll get out, things are slow. It means they probably won't meet or talk tonight, but Kame will like hearing it anyway. Slow, no clients, maybe none at all for the rest of the evening.

For an hour after he's back on the lounge floor it totally seems like it, and maybe he's lost his new-found mojo or maybe it's the way the other escorts are still looking at him suspiciously, that's got to unnerve the shyer sort of client. But eventually he ends up engaging in hilarious sign language with some short, perfumed French ambassador guy whom Tsukada has brought along and suddenly finds himself booked for three hours in a superior, where he finds out that the little guy has a cock that would make Shota with his famous deep-throating skills blink. Thankfully, he's not so interested in Jin's mouth.

"Still slow, having to stay late," he mails Kame while Monsieur Big Cock is in the bathroom between sessions. "Please go sleep? See you tomorrow night for sure!"

 

### Monday 27 April

He does okay on Monday, too. Less of foreign and hilarious, more domestic and demanding, but hey. Money.

The last guy was a little unpleasant. Liked taking Jin to the edge, and then waiting again, over and over with his unpleasant hand and his unpleasant smile. Makes it hard to shut off.

But he bowed and said thank you, said he'd like to do it again. Now he gets to go home. He's exhausted and fed up, and he misses Kame.

"Hey," Tadayoshi says when Jin gets into the break room, showered but still looking forward to the next one, being in Kame's shower, getting this _all_ off, right down to the air from this place. "Nice catch for a Monday. You taking off early?"

"Yeah," Jin says.

"Was he new?"

"No." Just new enough nobody else had dibs, new enough he doesn't know about whore schedules, the luxury guys not wasting their time on Mondays. "Think Jun's had him."

Satoshi and Jaejoong are watching him too, but he tries not to let it bother him as he crams his stuff into his bag, it's not his problem if they're nosy and spinning theories.

He watched some TV last night, some silly drama to wind down from the cheese and the French words and a bit too much wine. Kame likes French stuff. He wouldn't like French ambassadors with their hands all over Jin.

Right, he's going home.

"Night, guys," he says, and all but runs out of there.

It's just eleven when he marches down the driveway to Kame's apartment building. He had the cuddle guy for a relaxation early, and this one of Jun's for a comfort soon after, and when it's a Monday he can let that be enough. Fuck and run. Sometimes he wonders why he didn't figure this out sooner, instead of hanging around listlessly putting it off as long as possible.

Of course, he didn't have anybody to go back to then. Waiting for him. It does focus the mind.

Kame is at the dining table with a script, smiling brightly at Jin as he comes through the door.

"Hey. Early." He folds a page over and stands.

"I ran away," Jin says.

"I approve." Kame is close now, smelling of honey shampoo. His lips are warm and dry on Jin's. It helps put those intrusive wet kisses out of his mind. "You hungry?"

"Do we have any of those tortellini you froze?"

Kame laughs. "I unfroze them for you. Won't take a second."

Jin gets spoiled when he gets home from work. Kame makes him tea, heats his food, opens bottles of cold beer for him. By the time Jin gets out of the shower, the steaming plate is set on the table for him.

He wonders sometimes if he should ask Kame to stop waiting on him like that. But it's hard, when he gets the impression sometimes that it's the highlight of Kame's day.

"How was your day?" Kame asks, predictably enough.

"Uh," Jin says, and tries the first mouthful of pasta. Between the cuddling and the unpleasant one, he forgot to think of something. "Just the usual, you know? Filled my quota, ran home quick." He stuffs more tortellini into his mouth.

"Good," Kame says, his smile the familiar mix of pained and encouraging.

It's the one drawback of getting home early. Kame knows Jin scored, a comfort at least, or multiple guys. Maybe he should do it like last night more; Kame could imagine that he failed to get a client at all. But then Kame won't sleep enough, and they'd see even less of each other.

"Any work news?" Jin asks in return, slowing down on the food.

"I had chicken innards thrown at me. Got to kiss a girl while covered in guts and slime." Kame cracks a grin. "It was fun."

"Oh, the sister?"

"Yeah. We had to re-take one scene seven times, the poor girl just can't aim. Morioka got sent away because he couldn't stop laughing."

That sounds like fun. Jin's glad that work is getting better for Kame.

"About my message," Kame says after Jin has made some headway on both his food and his beer. "Thanks for your answer. I hope you didn't take it the wrong way…"

"No, I didn't. Don't worry."

"It was just to talk. You know, catch up."

"Yeah."

"And I don't know if you heard, but we did go upstairs to a room, but, well, it was just for privacy. And it didn't seem fair to take up his time without… you know."

On impulse, Jin reaches over to mess up his hair. "I know," he smiles. "That's what I figured. It can be hard to catch up in the lounge."

Kame breathes out slowly. "Good." He looks adorable with his hair sticking up, the relief still painted all over his face.

Stupid Kame, being worried again. And poor Kame. Jin never stopped to think that there was more for Kame to miss about the club than sex.

"Have you been in touch with Tanaka?" he asks, against his own inclination to avoid the topic. And, right, there's a confused little blink, and Jin feels the sting of impossible things. "I mean, the two of you. You haven't hung out in ages. I think— that might be a good idea?" He can almost watch Kame's face get very controlled.

"No, I haven't. But you may be right, I really should." He nods. "He's been…"

"He's a good friend," Jin says.

"Yeah." Kame nods again, quite resolved. He doesn't bring up the contract. Kame hasn't brought up the contract ever again.

"I'm sorry I didn't come over last night," he says suddenly. Maybe it would have helped even with Kame knowing about the appointment, just to have someone there.

Kame shakes his head with a smile. "You can't help the hours," he says. "And you're really good about keeping me updated, so I got to sleep." He says that like it's a great achievement. Then he clinks his wine against Jin's beer bottle. "One day I'll be working late again, and then you'll have to be understanding too."

Jin finishes the rest of his pasta, not that it was much, and Kame beats him to clearing the table. Jin takes his beer over to the coffee table, knowing it's appreciated when he doesn't get in the way.

The closed script on the table has a sticky note on top, with very feminine handwriting and quite rough phrasing. 'Two hours in the cage, amigo. Do me proud.'

"Are you coming over tomorrow?" Kame asks in an offhand sort of voice, like it's not about the Wednesday regular and whether Jin is up for the awkward breakfast.

"I could…" Jin tries to catch Kame's eye, but Kame is dealing with dishes. "But I don't have to."

"I'd like it," Kame says. "I didn't see you all weekend." He smiles over his shoulder. Then there's a triple buzz from the bathroom.

"That's the dryer," Kame says. "Let me just get stuff organized." He nods at Jin in passing, and Jin sits back to wait, has his beer.

It's when Kame is gone a while that he goes up to check.

There are little piles of dried washing everywhere. Jin's t-shirts neatly folded on the top of the cabinet, Kame's in a tidy pile next to them. Socks paired up on the towel stack. Why isn't Kame doing this in the lounge where there's more room? On the washing machine, stacks of underwear – Jin's boxers, the ones he likes for just hanging around. Jin's other ones, the ones for business. Kame's which look very much like Jin's business ones and—

Kame tidily folds another pair and puts it on Jin's escort stack, and his movements are economical and contained, and almost robotic, and this is wrong.

"Hey," Jin says.

Kame looks up. His eyes are just a little dark. "Hey. Sorry, I'll be right out, I'm almost done." He smiles briefly; it looks entirely fake. "Still new to this laundry thing."

"You don't need to do that," Jin says. "You shouldn't do that. Leave the escort stuff. Why is that even in there?" He keeps it separate, in a holdall he takes to a laundry ever so often.

"That would be silly," Kame says. "It's here, you're here." The little line is back between his brows. His character in the creepy schoolboy drama looked like it all the time, in the first four episodes, before he hung himself and became a ghost. "I want you here." He takes a very cautious breath, blinks and drops his eyes again to the black pair of underpants he's folding.

"Kazuya, stop."

"I'm almost _done_ ," Kame says, and his voice goes high, wild. "Really, it's fine."

Laundry. It's just laundry and Kame is…

It's not working. This isn't working. Layers on layers of not working and they can't go on like this, Kame with his jaw locked and his eyes all dead, it's not worth it.

"It will be," Jin says, and he pulls Kame into a hug, a crushing one that he needs for strength because god, he only just got a new apartment. "It will be fine. Come out of here."

He lets go enough to drag Kame away, back into the living room, and maybe he's dragging a bit too vehemently but Kame doesn't even resist, just follows, stays where Jin lets go of him.

"Jin…" His voice is shaky.

"Give me one minute," Jin says, and grabs the phone. "Well. Three. Just three minutes, okay?"

"It was just laundry," Kame says. "It still needs to be folded…"

Jin might argue that whole underwear folding point if he didn't have bigger, scarier, crazier things on his mind, and maybe Jin can get an underwear-folding job, oh god oh shit.

Kame is still holding on to that pair of underpants like some safety blanket, just _standing_ there, and Jin needs to do this right and he needs to do it now. He's not ready but he needs to be ready.

So his first call is Yuu-chan.

"Jin?" Jin thinks he can hear the voices of Ryuuhei and Takahisa behind him, arguing, and Jin gestures at Kame to sit, to drop that _thing_ , to…

"Yeah. Hey, sorry, I need a favour. Can you take my comfort tomorrow, Kudara-san, six to nine?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Yuuya says. "My booking with Nishikido-san isn't till ten. Anything special?"

"Nope, nothing special, you know me." Jin is boring, Jin is vanilla, Jin is done. "I'll let Ootomo know. Thanks for this. Kazuya, could you please… could you sit down? Thanks, Yuuya. I'll call you. Thanks."

He hangs up and this is it, he closes his eyes and takes a deep shaky breath and hits speed dial. His number one speed dial.

He watches Kame while it rings.

"Yes?" Ootomo sounds curt and annoyed. Normal.

"Ootomo-san. I'm sorry to bother you but I'm quitting." Then he holds his breath. Kame is holding his breath, _everything_ is, and if Ootomo is saying something…

Ootomo was saying something, and what Jin catches of it is, "…really sure?"

"Yes," he says, not taking his eyes off Kame. Kame looks like he's trapped somewhere between disbelief and hope, desperate hope, and that's when it settles. "I'm really sure." He remembers his manners just in time. "I'm very sorry for the inconvenience."

"I bet you are," Ootomo says, but he sounds resigned, not angry.

Kame's unfreezing, he's blinking, then frowns. He whispers, "Jin, you don't…"

Jin covers the mouthpiece. "I'm on the _phone_." To Ootomo he says, "Yuuya is taking my comfort tomorrow. I can come in later to discuss the formalities. Whenever suits you. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah," Ootomo grumbles. "You're hardly irreplaceable. Come in tomorrow at two, I'll need signatures."

"Sure," Jin says. "I'll be there." The earlier the better, before he has too much time to think.

Oh god.

"Fucking romantics." And Ootomo hangs up.

Kame has discarded the underpants of horror and is sitting on the arm of his armchair, looking like he's afraid to relax anywhere, like something might go terribly wrong if he did.

"There," Jin says. "Yuuya's got my last client, I'll sort admin with Ootomo tomorrow, it's fine now, it's done."

Done. He's feeling wobbly, the thoughts rushing through his head, Yuuya and the numbers in his bank account and the rent and crazy bottles of wine, and then never having to do this ever again.

"I'm not… I'm not asking you to," Kame says, and his voice is scratchy but there's _please_ in it, _oh god please_.

"Yeah, I know," Jin says, a little short of breath, he thinks he scared himself a bit. "I appreciate it. I do. I'm doing it anyway." He tries a smile; he'll figure out the rest later. "No way am I asking Ootomo to let me come back after that." Ootomo, and his apartment, and the _money_ …

Kame is up, flings both arms around his neck, desperate like never before. "You'll be okay," he mumbles. "I promise."

Jin laughs a little, and he's the one holding Kame up but he thinks it's all that keeps him steady, all he's got while the ground is shifting.

~

_Chapter 56 to follow 29/03/2012_


	56. Chapter 56

### Tuesday 28 April

So this is it.

It's three in the afternoon, and the last he'll ever see of the freezing cold office and Ootomo's green palm tree shirt with the blue sleeves.

It took over an hour, because there were papers, and of course there were rules. Jin was pleased to learn that his medium-faithful service to the company means there are no investments like his first haircut to pay back, and he signed away his liver or at least one kidney all over again, promising not to tell on the clients and the colleagues, and possibly to only ever spell Johnny's backwards.

"Make sure you get a good deal," Ootomo says, with an undertone of _good luck_ , and Jin bows, remembering for a moment that this guy once saved him from the winter.

Outside there's the plush carpets and warm lighting. Safety. He's clung to it for so long he feels a little abandoned. He needs to remember he's got a roof over his head, and savings, and he's not alone.

He could go now, and he'll never see this place again.

But it's Tuesday.

For a moment he feels something almost like regret that the first client he'll be leaving hanging is the only one he gives a damn about. Not enough regret that he'd stay, postpone until… after. He's done. Still…

It's so early that the break room is still empty. Guys will be starting to come in at four. He doesn't want to act like nothing's up, but he doesn't want the gossip and the well-meant warnings all over again either. They can do that when he's gone.

He makes himself some tea and gives Kame a call; gets the answering service and just says, "All done, home by seven." Kame could probably hear his idiot grin if he said it in e-mail.

Then he starts emptying his locker. Wishes he had remembered to bring an extra bag for his brown pair of shoes, then just dumps them on top of towels and clean shirts because the club will be washed out of everything, anyway.

He leaves the stash of instant ramen in the cupboard; somebody else will have a use for it.

Then he hangs around playing Freecell on his phone until he hears the first footsteps.

It's Koichi, which makes it very easy. Jin says a friendly 'hi,' and as soon as Koichi is through the door and inside, Jin goes out.

Three forty-five. He sighs, but just a little. He'll park his bag in the whore bathroom downstairs.

The lounge is almost deserted, the TV not even running. He turns it on and for the first time since the first time he channel surfs until he finds soccer. Not a match, just some interviews about transfers, but so what. It lets him act all absorbed as more of the guys come down and clients filter in. It takes an hour before it gets busy enough that it looks strange for him to still be sitting there.

He's not sure why he cares, but somehow he does. He sips his glass of water – the third – and looks around without making eye contact with anybody. Still scanning the clients; age, weight, teeth, where their eye wanders. It's weird he doesn't have to do that anymore. Weird to be looking at the chairs and the drinks, the plants, and all that glitter, and know it's the last time. It feels distant already, like coming back to an old school.

But they're still looking his way as always, _they_ don't know that yet, and maybe he should find… yes.

Jin gets up. This is as perfect as it can be, short of Yamatani walking through the door right now.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he says once he's crossed the lounge to the far corner. "Do you mind if I join you for a few minutes?"

Nakamaru blinks up at him in surprise, but smiles when he sees who it is. "I think we might have… half an hour or so?" He turns to Koyama who is also giving Jin a benevolent smile. He's probably remembering Egyptians.

Oh god. Maybe that's why… no. Jin's not going to speculate about noses.

"May I buy you a drink?" Nakamaru offers, but Jin declines respectfully.

"I brought my own today," he says. "But thank you."

Nakamaru accepts it without fuss, and Jin is not a burden on their well-mannered, wordy argument about public hygiene standards. As Jin watches, he thinks Koyama is the more nervous one of the two; the one who shifts and blushes when Nakamaru calls him by his first name. Jin likes to think that without knowing it they are part of his conspiracy, the conspiracy of people who no longer do stuff they don't want to do.

Finally he sees Yamatani, having a chat with the concierge. Friendly as ever. Nice to people, whether they're old concierges or dumb clueless whores.

He gets up, smiling a little, and Yamatani sees him at once.

So he bows to Nakamaru and Koyama. "Thank you for letting me join you, it's been nice talking to you. And, um…" He feels awkward again. But it's important, too. "Good luck," he says, and doesn't wait for a reply before he leaves.

Maybe they think he's acting oddly, but it no longer matters, doesn't matter at all. Soon that'll stop feeling new, too.

"I was waiting for you," Jin says at the start, and Yamatani looks pleased like he always does, invites him to their usual spot by the wash paintings. Jin hesitates when they order drinks, before he remembers it's Yamatani, and he's never expected things in return just for being courteous.

"How are you, Jin?" he asks, his eyes crinkling up with a smile. Only four days since their Saturday date, but so much has happened.

"I'm fine," Jin says. "I'm great."

"I'm pleased to hear it."

"Are you well, Yamatani-san?"

"Perfectly well, thank you."

Their teas arrive. Yamatani has noticed Jin's choice, and Jin shrugs; smiles. "I wanted to talk to you," he says. "I wanted to tell you something."

Yamatani tilts his head a tiny bit. "Hmm, yes, you do have that look about you."

Jin laughs, feeling high all of a sudden and then suddenly very sober. "I'm quitting. Here, at the club."

Yamatani blinks; Jin can't read his face, only that it stays friendly. "Ah," he says.

"In fact I already did. I just told Ootomo. But I wanted to let you know too. I didn't want to… just not show up." He's feeling warm now, whether from the herbs in the tea or from what's going on, what he's doing, from being happy.

Yamatani's slow curiosity turns into a nod. "I appreciate that," he says. "That is very thoughtful of you."

They sit there, and it's silent for a moment. Saturday was the last time they fucked, and no, Jin doesn't want to think about it now, and then it's strangely easy to push aside.

He'll never know what happened to the Hello Kitty house, or the new budgies. He doesn't need to; maybe he'll even forget. But it's still weird now.

"Do you mind if I ask… it is for good reasons, I hope?"

"Oh. Oh, yes. I mean. I have a boyfriend and—" _and he got so depressed over my underwear_ "—and I'm going to get a different job…" Wherever they'll take him but he trusts Kame, it'll work out, he's not alone. "It was just… too difficult."

"Ah," Yamatani says again. He tilts his head again, and then there is a slow smile. "In that case, I think it's only fair of me to be very happy for you."

"Thank you," Jin says, and means it. "You were really nice to me. When I wasn't even— when I was really… I really appreciate it."

"I always liked your company," Yamatani says simply. "You always made me feel welcome."

More like Jin was desperate, for a client who didn't make him feel like a moron. But Yamatani is being honest, so Jin just thanks him.

He has a sip of his tea and… well. Here they are.

"I must admit," Yamatani says, "to a certain degree of curiosity…" He trails off and stirs his tea delicately.

Jin can't fight the grin, or the warmth in his face either. "Yeah," he says. "It all happened kind of quickly…"

Yamatani chuckles, reading him right and asking. "Am I right to assume that this has something to do with young Kamenashi-san?"

Silly that he wants to squirm like this, but… "Yeah. It… We started here, but… now it's different."

"Good," Yamatani says. "Good for you. And for him." He raises his cup. "To different times." For a moment he gets a faraway look, and Jin drinks his tea, thinks of Kame.

It's going to be different now.

He ignores the clients when he looks around, sees Jun laughing with someone, Takahisa bored in a disregarded corner.

They won't come back here like Takki and Tsubasa, throw parties and buy cake. Kame wouldn't… and neither would Jin. Jin doesn't know why he'd ever come back.

He stays a few more minutes, tells Yamatani and his certain degree of curiosity that he wants to learn a trade. Something with cars. It doesn't make him vulnerable now. Yamatani approves of cars and Jin's sensible thinking.

Then their teas are finished, and Yamatani gives him a mild look. "It was very nice of you to come see me again," he says. "But I assume you have someone waiting now."

Not quite yet, not for a few hours. But he gets what Yamatani means. "Yeah. I guess I should get going."

"I wish you all the best, Jin," Yamatani says. "It's been a privilege getting to know you."

Jin feels suddenly stupid. "Thank you. To you too, sir." He finds a deep bow. "And… you know, all the best with the budgies, and the renovations. And stuff."

Yamatani bows, too, and laughs, and gives him a little goodbye wave, and that makes it easy to turn around and go.

He almost forgets his bag. But he doesn't, and then he walks past the shiny bar for the last time, gives a friendly nod to the bartender on duty, a small bow to the concierge, and then the doors open for him and fall shut on the noise and the pomp.

Mikami at reception gives him a surprised look. He always knows about their outside appointments because if things go wrong, he's the one who gets sent to the rescue.

"No date," Jin says. "Just… leaving." It sounds funny and weird and he's not even sure how much he's telling him.

Mikami nods. "See you tomorrow, then."

And somehow he can't let that stand, can't pretend like that. Mikami's been nice to him. "No," he says. "I'm leaving. I'm not coming back."

He didn't expect the shocked look he gets in return.

That's how he finds himself in the back yard again between the dumpsters, smoking a final cigarette with Mikami and reassuring him that Ootomo didn't kick his ass out on the street where he'll be selling it from now.

"I've got a boyfriend now," he says, dragging on his cigarette while he decides that he's not going to name names. "I'm done with this."

"You'll be okay without the money?"

"I've got savings. I'll find another job." He laughs more confidently than he feels, takes another puff. "Got all those nice suits, would be a shame not to go to a few job interviews."

"Good for you," Mikami says thoughtfully. "Wish I could do that too. This job creeps me the fuck out."

Jin blinks. He's always known that Mikami didn't like to… think about things too much. But Jin's never heard even a single disparaging comment from him. You could only tell from the gruff silences.

"Then why are you still…" Surely it's easier to find another bouncer job than try to pick up a trade when all you know is how to be a whore.

"It pays," Mikami says. "Really well. With the confidentiality and all. I've got family, we got debts. My son's coming up to seventeen. Anything I can do to stop him ending up like…" He shrugs.

"It's okay," Jin says, "no offense taken."

"I want him to finish school, get into university. But my wife can't work. So."

So. Jin grimaces.

"I don't know if it helps, but I've always been really glad to know you were here," he says. "Made me feel safer. I think the other guys feel like that, too."

Mikami gives him a screwy half-smile. "I guess that's worth something."

"It's worth a lot to people like us," Jin says. "Trust me on that."

They smoke down the last bits of their cigarettes in companionable silence. Jin's halfway made up his mind to quit smoking. It'll save money. But he decides to hold on to his packet just in case.

"Well," Mikami says, thumbing out the butt and dropping it in the ashtray. "I need to get back in."

And there's that awkward moment again.

"It's been nice knowing you," Jin says, bows. "And thank you for looking after me."

"Nice knowing you too," Mikami says. "Good luck."

When he goes back behind his counter, Jin walks past and out of the door, and doesn't look back. It hisses shut behind him, and then he's outside, in a Ginza back street at six in the evening, without a job.

 

### Thursday 30 April, 10:00

Jin peers through the large tinted window of the coffee shop, hoping nobody will notice and take him for a stalker. He's early. He'd have been early anyway, and then he needed ten minutes less on the train than yesterday. Helps to have tested the journey.

Also helped to see what kind of people went there before he finally decided what clothes to buy. He really doesn't want to make an ass of himself again.

He still woke up at three this morning with his heart pounding, suddenly convinced they must have different days and yesterday was the jeans-chic and funny-hair day, and today is something different and he got it all wrong.

Kame would have laughed at him again, if he'd been awake. Okay, maybe not. Kame is walking around with the sort of grateful glow that doesn't include laughing at Jin. He didn't even say anything when Jin ironed his jeans.

That's got to let up soon, Jin expects.

It's busier than it was yesterday at three. A nice, laid-back sort of place, with comfortable armchairs and couches around low tables. Maybe some other day Jin could do it laid-back justice. Chairs and bistro tables are where people can have real meals or type away at their notebooks. The walls are hung with music posters, strange African-type decorations, and colourful flower prints.

He wonders what the etiquette is. Go in first, secure a table? Or is that disrespectful? It's two hours before the lunch crowd will roll in but if he miscalculates and they end up with nowhere to _sit_ … Okay, he'll grab a table.

He straightens his new black denim jacket, rubs his hands once down the just slightly ripped jeans, and pushes the door open.

They're playing Glay. Nice.

He picks a table in the emptiest corner for a bit more quiet. He wishes he knew what Tanaka's wearing. Last time he was on his home turf, and all Jin's got for comparison is the club, and…

Black jeans and sunglasses and leather wristbands, and a scruffy black shirt… Tanaka lets the door swing shut behind him, with a busy-looking shrug of his shoulders.

Okay. Jin's okay. Maybe without leather, but… okay.

Tanaka— has seen Jin. Jin thinks. The sunglasses are a bit unnerving.

But Tanaka's zeroing in on him, making his way past a student group with his usual swagger. "'Sup," he says, dropping himself in a chair.

"Hello," Jin manages.

Tanaka pushes the shades up into spiky blond hair, looking Jin up and down. "Have you ordered yet?"

"No," Jin said. He hasn't even thought yet about what to order. Can you fuck up your choice of coffee?

"How'd you like the place?" Tanaka asks. "I sometimes come here for business talk, not as stuck up as some other places." He waves at the waitress, a tall willowy girl with brown skin and huge silver earrings.

For business sounds okay. For business sounds better than 'for letting people down gently'. "It's nice," Jin says. "Um. Really… laid back."

"Laid back, huh," Tanaka says, with another one of those up-and-down glances. "Yeah. I like that."

Jin clears his throat, and sounds relatively steady when the waitress gets there with her tappy computer thing and he orders a simple black coffee, just in case. Tanaka is going for a whisky-flavoured latte with double espresso.

"I was surprised to get your phone call," Tanaka says when she's gone again.

"Um, yeah," Jin says. "I'm really sorry."

"I mean, I wouldn't have been surprised getting a call a month ago."

Jin squirms. Wonders about another apology, if that would help, but maybe rappers don't sign people who are pathetic…

"Sorry," Tanaka says with a grin. "Just winding you up. But you seem to have done all the winding yourself already."

"I guess," Jin admits.

"And how's our mutual friend?"

Oh god, small talk too. "He's… good," Jin says. "Business still isn't so great but he's…" _Happy._ "We're doing fine. I quit my job."

"About time," Tanaka observes.

Easy for him to say. But Jin just sketches a little bow. He's not here to contradict anything.

"So now you need a new one."

"I'm… well." This is so awkward. "Yes."

"Have you considered washing dishes somewhere?"

"Yeah." Kame told him not to be an idiot, to at least call Tanaka before getting on the phone to Tomo to see if the parking garage job he quit might still be open. But it looks like Jin was right. He feels a little sick, and here's the waitress with the coffee and he's not sure he wants to touch it. Just as well he ordered the cheapest one.

"There's stuff I can try," he says to Tanaka. At least he's got an apartment this time, an address, so he _can_ get a job.

Tanaka takes a gulp from his latte, and his menacing look is spoiled a little by a milk moustache. "So if anything will do, why come to me? Last time we talked, a two-year contract didn't seem to be safe enough. You're right that it's a chancy business. Dishes aren't going out of business any time soon." He snips his finger against his glass.

"I…" Jin takes a deep breath. "You're right, it didn't seem secure enough. Not while I had a really well-paid job where I could save up. I really would have liked to be in the band but I was afraid of giving that up. Now it's just no longer in the equation. And I'd take a two-year contract with you over most other jobs, definitely over anything I could get right now. I like music. It would be great to be in the music industry."

Tanaka is giving him a rapper scowl. "Can't have been that afraid, if it only took you a month to get over it."

Jin's got nothing to say to that. That's between him and Kame. He tries that little bow again.

"Well," Tanaka says. "I might actually have an opening for a junior administrative assistant in the studio. Pay's better than you'd get washing plates in a restaurant." He makes a thoughtful face. "Mind, you get the occasional old coffee mug to clean up and there's no hazard pay for that… But hey, since I don't intend to go out of business anytime soon, it's pretty secure. What do you think?"

"Uh," Jin says. It's not what he'd hoped for, but he was just silly. Of course he couldn't expect people to wait around for him for a month. He doesn't know why he's so disappointed. He nods. "That would be… I'd be really grateful."

Tanaka rubs his hands over his face. Stares at him. "Really?"

What?

"Well," Jin says, "after… you know. I realize that…" He shrugs. "I'm grateful for any job, and particularly one in this industry, and I'd do my very best."

"Yeah, no doubt," Tanaka huffs. "Fucking stupid waste, it would be." Another gulp of that coffee, and he puts it down and leans back. "I talked to the guys. They'll have you, and I'll have you provided—" He pokes his beringed finger at Jin. "—provided you promise not to run around searching for a _real job_ during the two contract years when I need you focused. This isn't a job you can just coast on. There'll be five other people depending on you, and I'll go medieval on your ass if you fuck up one of my most promising units. Capisce?"

Kawhat? What just happened?

Tanaka is glowering. "Cars, was it?" He makes it sound more disgusting than dishwashing.

"Yeah… but, I wouldn't! I promise!" He's still catching up here, and Tanaka talks about cars.

"I'll write a special line into your contract, saying the only car you're allowed near is the JUNGLELOW minivan."

"And Kame's."

It slips out. He blushes instantly.

"Already being difficult about the working conditions, I see," Tanaka says, but this time Jin can tell he's just being teased.

"I'm, uh, just trying to protect you. From, uh, wrath. Of the… of a scary guy."

Tanaka's nod concedes that he's got a point. "I'll enter a Kamenashi clause. And you're at my office tomorrow at two, to sign yourself over."

It's just a second, a moment where the sound of that…

Jin shakes himself out of it. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I'll be there."

 

####  *~*~* 16:00

He's missing half the chords.

He bought JUNGLELOW's last two singles on the way home, five songs in total, and there's one which is pretty straightforward but either his concentration's shot to hell or it's not as simple as all that.

It's a great beginning to his first afternoon in his new career that he is a moron with his guitar, but he can't stop grinning.

Kame should be home by four. Jin couldn't call him, phones are off on set. He could have sent mail, but half an hour won't kill Kame, and Jin wants to see his face when he tells him.

There's the bridge again, folding in on itself weirdly after two bars. How the hell did Ochiai do that? Jin starts the song over because at least he's slowly starting to get a handle on the normal verses.

He assumes the guys will have this written down somewhere. Maybe he'll get a bundle of music sheets with his contract tomorrow. This is just playing around, celebrating.

He really can't stop grinning.

And there's the key in the door, and Kame, and he quickly wipes the grin off his face, because that would give too much away too quickly.

A clatter in the genkan, and Jin's barely got up from the couch when Kame storms across the living space with a glow to him that could power the Yamanote, and folds him into a hug.

"Congratulations."

"Bloody Tanaka," Jin says.

Then Kame wants to hear absolutely everything; Jin has a feeling he'd even want to hear it twice, he's that absorbed in Jin's tale from the coffee place with the terrible teasing Tanaka who can't even keep a secret to himself for half a day.

They sit on the sofa, the four o'clock sun flooding the apartment, and Jin doesn't know why they end up giggling over the idea of Jin as an administrative assistant for minutes on end. Maybe they're high on something, or drunk on harmless afternoon tea.

This is early even for a Thursday but Kame swears it's just lucky scheduling, not worrying developments on the cook set.

"So tomorrow I'll go sign the contract," Jin finishes. "At noon, at Tanaka's office." It's kind of mind-boggling still. "I can't believe I'll get _paid_ to play music."

Kame says nothing. Maybe he doesn't want to comment on the money, maybe he's afraid Jin will remember how much less it's going to be.

But he looks happy; so happy for Jin. And just now Jin doesn't care about the money.

"I'm going to buy a second guitar for when I'm here," he decides. "With my first salary."

Kame smiles like that's the best idea Jin's had all week. Okay, maybe second-best. "I'll watch over it carefully when you're not here," he promises, which makes them giggle again. 

He'll make money, and not from having sex with strangers.

"What else do you want to do with your salary?" Kame sounds like this is an adventure for him too.

"Hmmmm." On impulse, Jin leans against the armrest and pulls Kame's feet into his lap. He starts thinking. Of this normal life, now. "You know, I could probably get a hamster."

Kame blinks like Jin just grew a second head and it's green. "You want a hamster?"

"No, it's just... I could, I just realized. In theory."

After a moment of careful consideration, Kame nods. "The hamster possibility."

Jin considers pinching his toes, but thinks better of it because, yeah. "Kind of," he says. Stuff you can't have when your life's not really your life, no matter how much you're earning. "I think I want to get some stuff... I had an up-to-date run of _One Piece_ once, did I ever tell you that? But I couldn't... I want to get that again."

There's a few things like this, things he left behind and wouldn't let himself think about for so long. Things he doesn't have in his life now. Not even this new life.

Kame's feet are twisting in his lap like he's trying to touch Jin more. "They're going to see you in the band," he says quietly. "Tanaka's promo department are good at their job. Are you ready for that? Do you think they might get in touch?"

Jin thought about that already. "I don't think they'll get in touch." If they thought he was rich, if he made it _huge_... but mostly he's just a disgraced son in a rock band. He's not even very upset about it.

"Do you want to get in touch with them? Now that... you know."

He shakes his head, then stops and says, "Maybe." He's thought about that, too. Wondered, in fact, how to bring it up, or when. It didn't have much to do with the job. "I'd like to see my brothers. So I think I'd like to get in touch, for that."

He wants to see Taro. Wants him to know that he's out there, if anything ever happens. He wants to look at Hisato's sulky face and talk to him and see if maybe they can be some sort of brothers again.

Some sort. "But they can't know about us," he says. "None of them, I don't trust them with this." With what's left of Kame's career.

Kame looks more troubled than any ex-paranoiac has a right to. "They're your family," he says. "I don't want to be... you should be able to be honest with them..."

Jin's just not told him enough yet. He doesn't dwell on those days, he doesn't like to mope.

"Maybe Taro, one day," he says. "I'd like that. But he's a kid and he lives at home, with _them_. He shouldn't have to keep a secret like this." He finds himself nudging Kame's feet, like he's holding on. "And you're my family now."

Then he feels himself blushing horribly. The only thing that makes it better is that Kame looks like somebody who just got the last piece of strawberry cake.

Eventually, Kame clears his throat. Jin swallows. Dignity, right.

"Speaking of families," Kame says, biting his lip. "I need you to come see my lawyer with me tomorrow."

"Your lawyer?" Jin frowns, wondering about... Midori.

"Nothing bad. Just some stuff he can explain to you better." Kame makes a guilty face. "And it's at eight."

Eight... Kame probably means in the morning. Okay. Families. Gotta be brave.

"Sorry," Kame says. "I know you'll get in late. But it's important."

"I'll live," Jin smiles. "I can also try not to let it get _that_ late." Though, fat chance. Tomo will _so_ want to buy him beers, plural.

"Are you going to tell people there about the band?" Kame asks, as if he's read Jin's mind.

"Just Tomo, for now. I want to wait until everything's signed... what?"

Kame is grinning ear to ear. "You're cute. You're just... you're so cute."

This time Jin hits his feet. "I just like to have all my turtles in a row."

"Oh, and, Sunday," Kame says suddenly. "My mom asked. Will that be okay?"

Oh holy hell. Jin's stomach is saying thanks from somewhere near the floor. "Yeah, Sunday will be fine," he says, because he's Kamenashi Kazuya's boyfriend and he can handle 7 a.m. starts _and_ scary family visits. No problem.

They keep sitting there for a while longer, Jin tweaking Kame's toes and Kame occasionally breaking into grins. It's nice to have the time, the long afternoon before he goes out to the Open Mic.

"Can I ask you for something?" Kame says into the quiet.

Jin nods. "Sure."

"Your songs tonight. Will you play them for me?"

"Sure!" What kind of question is that. Well, a sweet one, just like the turtle over there. But... "Um, one of them is kind of loud."

Now Kame looks at him like he is being _cute_ again. "I'm the landlord," he says gently.

Jin rolls his eyes, and lifts Kame's feet off himself, lets them drop with a thump on the soft couch, and goes to get his guitar back.

"Okay, so this is the latest one I've written," he says, and it feels a bit strange, an audience of one, and Kame so intent on what he's doing.

So the first chords are clumsy again, like it's a new bar and a new gig, and his skin is prickly-nervous.

But then he gets with it, catching Kame's smile when he starts to sing.

He didn't write it _for_ Kame, it's not even a love song, but singing it into Kame's living room it's the first time he hears the new joy in the lines, and that's all about Kame anyway, all shining and everywhere.

"That's beautiful," Kame says when he's done. He heard it too, Jin thinks. "That's really... I don't know how you do that." He looks dreamy, until a grin takes over his face. "Also I recognize bits of that from when you sing in the shower."

Jin laughs, hugging his guitar. "Yeah, there was that time last week when I was trying to get the lead into the chorus to work. Over and over, with shampoo."

 

### *~*~* Saturday 02 May

"Let me get that," Jin says, holding his cone out to Yuuya while fishing for his wallet with the other hand.

"No, I'll pay," Yuuya says. "Since I'm the only one with a job here and you're unemployed and everything." He squints at Jin in a critical fashion, and Jin knows which 'everything' is meant here.

He bites back a smile. "Shut up. I'm your senpai, I'm paying." He fumbles out a thousand yen note and passes it to the guy at the ice cream stall, who gives Jin a pitying look but doesn't turn down even unemployed money.

Yuuya says thank you, and they stroll on, down towards the food stalls lining the way to Shinobazu pond. "You're bossier," Yuuya comments, and sucks on his ice cream to keep the top from dripping. It's a lovely day, warm enough Jin carries his jacket over his shoulder.

"You're just as short," he says.

Yuuya looks at him with raised eyebrows, but then focuses on his ice cream again. "You're happier."

Jin thinks skipping would probably be overdoing it. But, yes. He is.

"Yeah," he says, that smile taking over his face again. "Also I'm employed."

Yuuya gives him a slow look. "You're shitting me."

"Nope."

Yuuya makes a _hmpf_ sound. After another twenty seconds he says, "Okay, so either you got lucky and some burger bar needed a new flippy guy, or Kamenashi is paying you to look after his house plants, or… or I don't know. So?"

"I'm going to be in a band."

This time Yuuya stops. "You're _shitting_ me. A band?"

"Yes. There's this band, JUNGLELOW, and they lost one of their singers, and, well, I know them through Tanaka-san, and they like me. And I like music. And I need a job."

Yuuya seems undecided if this is legit, but he doesn't look quite as dismissive as with the burger joint. "Tanaka, huh?"

Jin shrugs. He can't pretend Kame had nothing to do with it. But it's a job, and his contract, his name on it. He's never been so happy to sign anything in his life, except maybe his lease. "It's for real," he says, and when Yuuya doesn't roll his eyes outright Jin tells him about everything.

Cute ducks with tufty heads are swimming peacefully in front of last year's dry lotus stalks. It's pretty, the faded yellow against the blue pond and sky.

"I haven't heard of JUNGLELOW," Yuuya says.

"Yeah, they're not that big," Jin admits.

"Hm," Yuuya says again. "Well. But it's something."

The park is busy, families with toddlers and groups of women with strollers, couples sharing ice cream and troupes of girls squealing over cell phone pictures. The sun's shining, and it's like everyone who doesn't have to work is out and enjoying it. Yuuya won't have to go in for another two hours.

Jin has no idea when band singers work. But he's looking forward to finding out. Maybe his schedule will be just as random as Kame's.

He hasn't had sex since Monday. Since that last guy. He has moments when his body seems to find that weird. But it's good. Kame has been very cuddly and affectionate and now there's no other guys, it's great.

Yuuya kicks at a little stone with his blue sneaker, tries to roll it along. He doesn't remind Jin of a schoolboy anymore, but he'd fit in with the students who are hanging around smoking outside the University of the Arts.

"What do you want to do afterwards?" Jin asks without really hesitating. "I mean, I know you can do this for a while. But you must have thought about it."

"Yeah, sure I have," Yuuya smiles. "But I don't know yet. When I get fed up… well, I don't know. I don't really fancy school." He wrinkles his nose, which makes Jin laugh.

"That's what they say when they're _in_ school, so you'd fit right in."

"God, I'd be ancient," Yuuya says. "I'd be, like, _thirty_ or something."

"Yeah, with your teeth falling out." Appropriately, they overtake a stooped granny, and grin guiltily at each other.

"You never said anything about a music career before," Yuuya muses after a while.

Jin shrugs, feels the last of his cone crackle between his teeth. "I never thought something like this would happen. And, well. It was a private thing. The music stuff. Didn't want to get it all mixed up with… work."

"Yeah, I guess." Yuuya gives a little bounce on his next step. "So I'm going to be very happy for you. It's good you get away from all that."

"My thoughts exactly," Jin grins, and only then does he notice something almost shy in Yuuya's glance, the way he's watching Jin… ah. "Hey, I didn't mean you. "

"Well, I'd understand. If you want a clean break." Yuuya manages to make his shrug look entirely supportive.

"Don't be stupid. I want out of the job, not the friends. And I'm your best hamster sitter, so I don't know why you'd want to get rid of me."

Yuuya eyes him sneakily. "You'll watch her when I have to go on assignment?"

"Well, I don't think innocent little hamster girls should be taken _on_ assignment, so, yeah."

Yuuya laughs.

"Just," Jin says then, because he doesn't want to be so sneaky it's basically lying, and now's as good a time as any, "I'm at Kame's a lot. A _lot_. So I hope it's okay if I take her along if I have to…"

Yuuya gives him a resigned look.

"He likes hamsters."

"Hmm," Yuuya muses, "with tonkatsu sauce or with ketchup?"

"I know you've got reason to distrust him…"

Yuuya snorts. "Not half as many as you."

Yeah. "Look," Jin starts, and doesn't really know how to continue. "About that one time." He hopes to god Yuuya won't make him specify.

God hears him; Yuuya nods and doesn't meet his eyes.

"He knows, okay? And he knows I know too, and I'm not sticking around for any more shit."

"Hm." Yuuya puts his hands in his pockets and keeps walking next to him.

"I know you haven't really seen him…" There's not much he can tell Yuuya but… he's never tried even with the stuff that he can. "He was in a really bad shape for a while," he says quietly.

This time Yuuya stops dead; the kind of stop that says _you stop right there too_. When he looks at Jin there's nothing soft about him.

"Listen, Jin. I know you're older and stuff. But I also know a thing or two about sadistic jerks, and one of them is that they don't ever stop being sadistic jerks. You know, under the nice meals and the birthday cakes? It's just _there_."

Jin rolls his shoulders, trying not to squirm. They never really had it out like this. "He's not…" It's a hard argument to make, with Yuuya, because Kame kind of was.

"He's not _now_. Fine. But what if he gets in a bad shape again? Is he going to treat you like that again? That was really shitty of him, you know, with me there. And it was _all_ about making you feel bad. He got _off_ on it."

"I know," Jin mumbles. But at least he's got an answer to the worry. A good one. "But he won't," he says, and doesn't mind that Yuuya keeps staring at him darkly because this one is going to go his way. "I told you. Cause then I'd be gone."

"Could you? Leave? With that job of yours, you'd make enough?" It's not a challenge, not exactly. It's a reasonable question, put in an uncompromising manner.

"I could leave," he says firmly. There's not even a risk, not after Kame signed those papers… crazy rich guy, and kind of sweet, even if Yuuya won't see it like this, and for a moment he's not even sure he wants to tell him because it's Kame and it's private. But Yuuya is his friend. "I won't even need the job for it," he adds. "Kame drew up a thing with his lawyer, so if we ever break up, I'll get lots of money. I wouldn't have to work for years. I could even buy a place."

Yuuya frowns. "That makes no sense."

"It does when you don't want to worry that your boyfriend is just staying with you because of the money. He's as bad as you, fretting that I'll feel stuck with him and it'll be just like whoring—"

"Yeah, because the whoring worked so badly for him." But he's thinking it through, that's something. "Okay," he concludes. "That's… surprisingly decent."

"Gee, thanks," Jin says, and gets a little smile back.

"And this is official? He can't take it back?"

Jin all but rolls his eyes. "No. He put his seal on it and the lawyer did his thing and… no."

"Hm," Yuuya says again. Slowly, they resume walking, and Jin notices that somehow they've ended up by the Toshogu Shrine, being stared at by its dragons. "So… basically if you dump him, you get to be rich?"

"More or less," Jin admits.

Yuuya is clearly thinking that that is the best two-for-the-price-of-one deal he's ever heard of.

Jin elbows him in the side. "Don't even."

"I wasn't," Yuuya says, but he's grinning now. "Man. A lawyer thing, huh. About break-ups…"

Jin shrugs again. "I thought it was weird, too. But he says if we could get married I'd be rich too, after a divorce." He thought Kame was nuts at first. Now he's blushing a bit, hearing words like 'married' coming out of his own mouth.

"Hm, I guess that is fair. Now that you gave up your job at the office and all…"

Jin laughs. Totally fits Kame's logic. He wonders how well they'd have got on, if not for that one time.

He tells Yuuya he said yes to an office assistant job with Tanaka, which Yuuya finds hilarious. Jin can see he's just about stopping himself from making skirt and coffee jokes.

"Music's better," he says instead.

"Will you come to the gigs?" Jin asks on impulse. "Once I know when we have them, I mean. If you have time."

Yuuya gives him a look like earlier, calculating and kind of shy, as if he's not sure. There is that image, flirty Yuuya mixing with Tomo and the band and others…

Jin nods, it's fine.

"That would be _cool_ ," Yuuya says, and Jin has to laugh, he sounds that awed and that eighteen.

~

_Chapter 57 to follow 05/05/2012_


	57. Chapter 57

### Sunday 03 May

"Really," Kame says, hands in the recommended position on the steering wheel and knuckles only a little white. "You've got nothing to worry about."

"I know," Jin says, shifting again in his seat. They're doing a leisurely sixty on the expressway, and are having this exchange for the third time. Maybe fourth. With variations.

"You'll see," Kame says, all upbeat. In the seven weeks and two days they've been together, Jin has never told his boyfriend to shut up already, but he's getting sorely tempted. Even more tempted though to ruffle Kame's carefully styled hair and hug him until Kame loses that super-strung look.

Not that Kame would thank him. It would also suck if they got in an accident. Jin's horrible influence, proven beyond a doubt.

Jin shifts uncomfortably. This was worse than dressing for Tanaka. He actually considered one of the suits, tried to see if they felt less whore, more job interview to him with different shirts. In the end he went with Kame-outfit slacks and the good denim jacket.

Kame is in jeans; crisp new ones, though, so Jin thinks he's basically cheating. Kame's jacket is on the back seat because Kame doesn't turn the aircon on when Jin is in the car, not in early May.

They're watching the navigation screen in turns; Kame should know the way, really, but Kame worried about roadworks and alternate routes, and Jin was worried enough about being late that he didn't mock him for it.

The dot that is Kame's car is blinking its way onward like an alarm. Everywhere around them it's nice and peaceful.

"They'll like you," Kame says, as the charming two-storey house with perfect pretty pink geraniums comes closer, along with the well cared-for grey car Kame's dad drives to work.

This is where Kame grew up. Jin's stomach goes a little tight, this is so new, and weird.

"Right," Kame says, his voice shaky on the exhale.

Oh holy god.

There's just enough room for another car in the driveway; Kame has to squeeze out of his side a little bit in an effort not to land in a shrub. They're nice shrubs. Very neat.

Jin checks if his shirt is still properly in his pants, and only stops fussing when Kame seems to worry there's something wrong.

"You'll be fine," Kame says, with a quick blink. "You look great."

Right. Jin finds a smile. At least he knows how to do that when he doesn't feel like it. "Let's go."

They don't touch. Jin stays just half a step behind. Kame rings the bell.

The door opens pretty fast. It's the mom, she's short, she's… smiling. "Oh, I'm glad you made it all right," she says. Her cheeks are a little red. "I heard the roads are terrible just now."

"Hi, mom," Kame says. "This is Akanishi Jin. Jin, this is my mother."

"Thank you for coming out," Kame's mom says. "It was a bit of a short notice invitation, wasn't it? We're glad you could make it, we've been looking forward to meeting you." Jin thinks she talks rather fast.

He bows again. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Well, well, come in." She waves them on quickly, and they dutifully shuffle inside.

Inside is light and friendly. Little plants on little plant holder things on the wall, nice hardwood floors, a tidy staircase leading up to the second floor.

"How was the drive, dear?" Kame's mother says while they take off their shoes.

"Drive was fine," Kame says, and then there's a thump somewhere, a male voice calling out, "Incoming!" and Jin has just time to wonder before there's a— bounding through the hallway, it's huge, it's a dog, hair flying everywhere, its tail hitting the walls, and Jin takes a step back against the door before he can think better of it.

"Ran-chan!" Kame says, which boosts the wagging frequency up to insane, the dog jumping up Kame's front, Kame's pristine shirt… no longer so pristine.

That is a pretty big dog. How does Kame not fall over?

"Sorry," the voice says again, and Jin sees— right, that's Kame's dad, grey hair and a grey cardigan. "She escaped."

The dog is trying to lick Kame's face. Jin would maybe find it gross if he wasn't holding his breath, trying not to attract attention.

Too late. The dog jumps off Kame, turns— and stops. Sniffing in Jin's direction, and its tail has stopped, too. It yips at Kame.

Jin swallows. He doesn't know much about dogs but that's usually not a good sign. He hopes he doesn't smell of tasty cat.

"Ran-chan," Kame says, petting the dog's shaggy back. "It's Jin. Say hi to Jin."

"Um," Jin says. He doesn't know if he should bow just in case, or stay still so the dog doesn't get ideas. "Hi," he tries.

The dog sniffs again, yips at Kame again.

"Maybe if you hold out your hand…" Kame says. He looks a little unhappy.

Great. Someone hates him already.

"Oh, she'll warm up in no time," Kame's mother says. "She's just a little confused. Come here, girl, leave the young man alone. We usually serve tea before we have our guests assaulted, this is all out of order!" She gives Jin a little wink.

Kame gestures for Jin to step past him, looking undeniably guilty.

And there's the dad. Jin bows again, with the dog safely out of range.

"It's an honour to meet you, sir," he says, and Kame's dad bows a little too and calls him Akanishi-san, and Jin tries not to read anything into anything, it's simply too early.

They're led through to the sitting room. There are pictures of Kame, in a school uniform, in coming of age robes; it's an effort not to stare around too much. The furniture is pretty Western. There are magazines, bright and colourful… but no, no staring.

Kame doesn't have any inhibitions, of course not. "Oh," he says as soon as they are in the room, "you bought that vase after all?"

The vase is a strangely shaped green thing which holds a single pussywillow stem.

"Your mother persuaded me that it was a mistake to leave it behind," Kame's father says, "so we went back the following day."

"They spent two hours discussing that vase last time I was here," Kame says to Jin. "And showed me pictures on the internet."

"We shall be better behaved today," Kame's father promises. "Please, sit down."

Jin goes where he's pointed at and is glad that it's the couch, and Kame can sit beside him. It makes him feel safer. A moment later Kame's mom arrives with tea, and the dog stops watching Jin suspiciously and settles at the father's feet.

"I hope we didn't interrupt your Sunday too much," Kame's dad says. "It's been a while since Kazuya… Well, we did want to meet you." He brushes down his cardigan. A look passes between Kame's parents, and Jin thinks dad is getting scolded. The wife reminder was not approved.

Kame's wife. They liked her, she was charming. And there would have been grandchildren.

"Thank you," Jin says, feeling stupid. "I looked forward to meeting you too. And thank you for the tea."

Kame's mom is still running around, to the kitchen and back, bringing youkan and little mochi, and finally small pastries which make Kame wince.

"You have to stop doing that." He turns to Jin. "This has been her strategy for fattening me up since I was twelve."

"He can't resist them," Kame's mom says to Jin. "Strawberry pastries from our ward's oldest bakery."

Jin smiles at her. "I'll keep that in mind, ma'am." He feels quite daring saying it, and, okay, now they're silent, and thinking, and shit. He looks over the pastries again, mumbles, "They look really great."

"Thank you, honey," Kame's dad says.

Jin is acutely aware of Kame fidgeting next to him. He wishes they could touch, and also knows he'd die of mortification if they did, now.

Kame's mother sits down, a wide smile on her round face. "So, are you… Kazuya tells me you work in a café?"

Here it goes. "I used to," Jin says, before any hesitation makes him sound dodgy. "I just started a new job in a music company, as a singer." He hates how he looks like a flake who quit his real job as soon as he found himself a rich boy, but he's pretty sure they'd hate the truth more.

"Oh, a singer!" Kame's mom says. She sounds very approving. "What sort of music?"

So Jin gives her the summary he prepared with Kame, trying to come across as sober and respectable. He can't really tell how she takes it, she seems determined to make him feel at ease with all that approval. It reminds him a bit of Kame.

She doesn't look like Kame. That's the dad, all the sharp angles and skinny frame, long lines where Kame's cheeks show when he laughs. Kame will look good as he gets older.

The dad doesn't say much now. He has different cookies from the rest of them. Kame is on his second irresistible pastry, though Jin can feel his nervous glances.

"Your parents must be very proud," Kame's mother says.

Jin doesn't freeze. Take everything in stride, that's the zone he's in, he's got practice. Though he thinks Kame is holding his breath. "Thank you very much, that's very kind," he says, and bows a little. That should do it.

"What do your parents do, Akanishi-san?" Kame's dad asks. He has a nice voice. Jin should have been better prepared.

"My dad puts windows in buildings," he says. Just fact. "My mom is a housewife."

"Me too!" Kame's mom says, as if that similarity wipes away the house and the car and the difference between a job fitting windows and a job in an air-conditioned office. "And do you have any siblings?"

Kame is going very tense next to him. "I have two brothers," Jin says. "I'm the oldest. My middle brother is learning to be a plumber and the youngest is still in high school."

"Ah, that must be wonderful," Kame's mom says. "A big family is great, isn't it?"

It goes quiet again. Jin's supposed to say something, about his two brothers, the one who hates him and the one who almost forgot him. But he's stuck, and sweating, and he should really, _really_ say something…

"We were a lot of work, I think," he says. "For my mother, I mean."

Kame's mom nods wisely. "I always wanted brothers for Kazuya, or a sister. But, well, it just didn't happen."

"I have Ran-chan," Kame says. He noticed the pause too, he's wobbly.

"That, you do. I'm guessing Kazuya didn't warn you about her?"

"He mentioned her," Jin says. "I admit I forgot that she's… big." He hopes he didn't look too wimpy, and he tries to smile at the dog, which has its nose inside Kame's dad's dangling slipper.

"She's a handful," Kame's mom says. "I shampoo her twice a week, I don't care much for dog smell." She wrinkles her nose, then smiles at him again. "She likes to bathe, though, that's very lucky."

Jin nods and smiles back. He can practically hear Kame thinking next to him. Maybe Jin should be a little more… something. "So," he says, embarrassed when his voice sounds a bit squeaky. "Kazuya told me you work for a factory that makes bottle caps?"

Kame's dad nods. "I do. I've been there for thirty years."

"What sort of bottles? I mean, is that— for Coke and things? Or beer?"

"No," the dad sighs. "We never managed Coke. Or beer. But we have Pepsi, and Iyemon and Dakara and so on."

Jin smiles again. "I like Iyemon." Him and millions of others. There's another pause.

"So you two met in the coffee shop?" mom wants to know. Yes. That one, at least, they're ready for.

*~*~*

It gets better. Jin doesn't even notice it for a bit, but once they have the meeting story dealt with and Kame's mom told him that she and Kame's dad met on a subway train stuck underground for an hour due to signal malfunction, he feels much less like he's here for general inspection and much more like he's meeting… nice people. Kame's dad is quieter, it's the mom who is carrying the conversation, but dads are like that.

Kame's talking more, too. He offers up the Odawara minibus story as his traffic disaster contribution and finds various optimistic things to say about his own job situation. The rest just sort of hangs in the air, but seems to be content to stay there, like a rain front far off the coast.

"Oh, I hope you like yakiniku," Kame's mom says suddenly to Jin, interrupting Kame's comments on her holiday plans. "We have different kinds of meat, so if you don't like red meat… or white… there's fish too, I got a lovely piece of monkfish this morning."

"That's fine, I like all kinds of meat," Jin says quickly, ignoring Kame's look. "Thank you very much, that sounds lovely."

"Excellent," she says. There's another look passing between her and Kame's dad, who is currently keeping the dog entertained by twirling that slipper over her head. Jin's decided it's best not to get too worried about passing looks.

He sneaks another glance at the photos instead, the school uniforms and that. Jin thinks there's a red carpet one too. He's too far away for details, the promised eyebrows on the early ones, that sort of thing. But they're proud of Kame. It's right there, and in the way they treat him and look at him.

"It's a good thing we skipped lunch," Kame says in a lowered voice. His eyes are scanning Jin, checking if he's all right because he can't ask. They have their own passing looks. "There'll be _tons_ of all that."

Jin smiles, and hopes it looks real. He's okay. His back hasn't touched the sofa, but this could have gone so much worse.

"I heard that, young man," the mom says archly.

Kame makes a face. "I'm just praising you, mom!"

She raises her eyebrows at him. But she looks nice even when she pretends to be cross. "Hm," she says, and tilts her head. "You can do more than that. I could use another set of hands for slicing the vegetables, and if you boys skipped lunch we should get the meat underway sooner rather than later!"

"See, I told you," Kame says in a mock-whisper, and Jin grins to himself. But then Kame gets up, and there are more passing looks and— okay, if Kame helps his mom, Jin can… sit here?

"Is there anything I can do, ma'am?" he offers, and hopes that's not rude in this household. Kame at least usually lets him set the table.

Kame's parents look at each other.

"You know," says Kame's dad. For some reason Jin holds his breath. "I was going to take this one" – he nudges the dog, which yips in a much friendler tone – "out so she doesn't pester us during dinner. Would you like to keep me company? I could show you the garden."

Dad. Garden. Dog.

"Kame is giving him an encouraging smile, and Jin nods quickly. "Thank you, I'd like that." Really, how bad can it get?

"I'll get your shoes," Kame says. The dog bounds after him, making both parents shake their heads, and comes back with him as if the moving of the shoes needs careful supervision. Maybe she's worried they'll change their minds.

Kame shoots him another smile while he puts on his shoes, a _you'll be fine_ smile, while the dog is still keeping her distance as she tries to squeeze past him.

"Please don't let her ruin my azaleas?" Kame's mom says to her husband, to which he sighs. He's wearing a pinkish scarf Jin tries not to stare at.

The dog is jumping at the door now. Okay then. Kame secretly waves at him, and then he's outside with Kame's dad. And a big dog.

 

### *~*~*

The door closes on Jin, and on Ran-chan's happy brainless running in circles. The kitchen is instantly quiet.

Mom is stacking plates, neatly and slowly, and Kame suspects that the vegetables are sliced already and sitting in the fridge. He's not stupid.

"Okay," he says. "Bring it on."

His mother glares at him and sighs.

"That was a very bad thing you did to that poor girl, Kazuya."

Yeah. "Yeah," Kame says. "I know."

"You know we always let you make your own decisions, because you were always so mature, and I know you've got a lot on your plate now and it's not right how they're treating you at work, and there's some things you can't help, but Kazuya, what on _earth_ were you thinking?"

She's got the sink against her back and a dishtowel in her hands. Kame feels lost, standing in space, but leaning himself against anything seems too casual somehow.

"I thought…" So many things. So many cowardly pointless things. "I was scared. It was stupid. I was stupid."

"It _was_ stupid, and it was incredibly unfair, and I don't believe we raised you to do something this awful to a girl, a girl who _liked_ you."

"I liked her too," he says in a small voice. "I thought it might work, at first, I thought if _anyone_ …"

"Of course we thought grandchildren would be nice," she says, ignoring that last bit. "But you can't think we'd have wanted something like that for you, you can't possibly think we would have been so small-minded that we'd have told you to go and… go and do _that_!"

"No." He shakes his head; it's hard to keep looking at her. "It wasn't about you, at all. It was just… being scared. About work. I'm sorry." He wishes there _was_ something to slice, something to keep his hands busy. He wishes he had a beer.

"And—" He can see her clamping down on her voice. "Prostitutes? How could you even... what _possessed_ you? You really went to a... a place?"

Oh god. He hopes this is the part where it can't get any worse. It can't. But she's waiting for an answer this time, instead of steamrollering on to the next thing. "It was— I was trying to be discreet. I didn't want to do anything stupid, to hurt her, and…"

"Hm," she goes.

"I know. Look, I know, okay?"

"I take it you have stopped with that— that awful nonsense, now you have that nice young man?" she says sharply.

"Yes!" How could she even—

"Good," she nods. "Because don't you dare, Kamenashi Kazuya, come up with some other excuse for—" She shakes her head. " _Prostitutes_."

Kame stares at the floor, that old pressure on his chest. "Mom…"

He hears her sigh. "All right. I just wanted to be clear. I realize that was… about circumstance. So. I'm glad to hear it."

He looks up, but if anything she's frowning more deeply.

"Really, Kazuya… I talk to her on the phone, and I think of all the times you two were here together, and… you really deserve a smack on the head."

He nods readily. It sounds weirdly appealing.

"Only I don't do that," she says, "and I can't reach up that high."

The laughter sticks in his throat, and she's smiling and frowning all in one.

"I was really very mad at you," she says.

"Yeah. You were right to be."

"And worried. Because I want you to be happy, and you weren't really, were you?" There's something soft in her gaze that Kame doesn't quite get.

"No. I tried, but…" He shrugs helplessly. "What does dad think?" He doesn't look out the window, won't reach for support.

She called Jin 'nice'. It's just sinking in.

"About Midori?"

"No." He can guess that. With how much his dad has always cared about being a good husband. "About the other thing."

"He thinks you were a stupid boy who should have talked to us."

His eyes are itching suddenly, but he gets it under control. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I really should have."

She puts the towel down at last. Pours a cup of tea and holds it out to him, and Kame guesses it's his cue that he's allowed to move. The worst is over. "Well, don't do it again."

"No." Now he has a glance out the window. He can only see the fence and half his dad from here, though. His mom must see more of them, and there's a reluctant smile on her face.

"Thank you," he says. "For being so nice to him."

Her eyebrows go up slowly. "Well, it's not _his_ fault, is it?"

"No. No, it's not." They're being very clear on whose fault it is, here.

"Well, there you are then," she says brusquely, as if not being nice to Kame's new boyfriend is simply a ludicrous idea.

Then she picks up a cup of tea for herself, throws another glance out the window. "Has he told his parents the truth?"

"About… himself, or about us?"

"Himself. Well, both."

"They know he's gay," Kame says. "But they kicked him out for it, so no, they don't know about us, and we're thinking it's probably best that way."

Oh no; there's that pained look back again. But this time he was just telling her the truth, doing what he should be doing.

"Kazuya…" his mother starts cautiously, and he just knows he's not going to like what's coming. "He seems like quite a lovely young man, and he is undeniably good-looking, but… this sounds like more complications? And are you sure… I mean, you have had to go against your inclinations for a long time and you haven't really had a chance to meet other nice young men and I just don't know, if he's the very first one, can you be sure that you are really right for each other?"

He doesn't laugh. It would just worry her. But he shakes his head and hopes he looks as sure as he feels. "I know he's right for me. I can only hope to be right for him. And I started to see him before I… before this whole thing happened, he's the reason I didn't lie again. So it's not like you think."

She nods slowly. "You've been seeing each other a while…?"

"Since September," he admits. "And I know, and I'm sorry."

Another nod; one that indicates that they've moved on from the apologizing for now and she's got other things on her mind. "It's different, though, you know? An affair…" He can tell she chose the word carefully. "And what I think you want."

"I know, mom. But it's not like that, it's not just— We've had some pretty difficult times and… and he's really been there for me. And, well. Here we are." He can't help smiling. Just a little. He doesn't quite dare be happy around her yet.

She makes a thoughtful face.

"So you like him?" he asks suddenly. Okay, it's stupid, he can pretty much guess the answer, but…

The look she gives him is a little sly, as if she can guess just how he's feeling. "I wonder if he's a little too shy for his own good," she says. "But, yes, he seems very likeable, and very sweet." Then she makes a _tut_ sound and frowns again. "I really should not have asked all that about his family, that poor boy."

The smile breaks over his face for real, there's nothing he can do. She likes Jin. He didn't know how much he needed to hear something like this until he feels it warming him up from inside. "I think he'll forgive you," he says. "We were— um. He was kind of afraid of the inquisition."

She raises her eyebrows again, before she grabs her dishtowel and flaps it against his hip. "I see."

They grin at each other, and Kame steps towards the sink so they can both watch the tableau outside. Ran-chan is eyeing Jin, that disgusting drool ball in her mouth. Kame wants to bottle the warm glow inside him forever.

"So… how's Midori doing?" he asks, and he hears his mother sigh.

"Well, about as you would expect. Still kind of shellshocked. Trying to get on with life. Trying to see the bright side." Kame feels her sidelong look. "She's strong. Brave."

Things Kame isn't. And someone worth knowing. He still wishes he hadn't lost her so completely.

"Do you two talk often?"

"Just occasionally." Another sigh. "She calls me when she needs to talk. I like checking that she's okay."

"I'm glad she has you," he says, watching Ran-chan parade the ball around in front of his dad. "I'm glad you talk."

She raises her eyebrows, but doesn't chide him. "She knows we love her. That's not going to change."

He nods. There's nothing he can say to that, except how sorry he is. He wonders what they're talking about outside, Jin and his dad.

"And that engineering student, three years ago," his mom says next to him, and Kame's stomach does a little flop. "He was your boyfriend too?"

Kame nods wordlessly. Souji, so long ago. Jin is offering to take the ball, and Ran-chan jumps back a pace. Eyes him and drops into a crouch with it.

Mom's arm sneaks around his middle, and somehow it draws a loud breath from him. And she's tiny, and it shouldn't feel like so much strength when he leans into her.

 

### *~*~*

This could be worse, Jin thinks after the first few minutes of fretting. The dog helps.

It's nice, and much cuter when it's not cornering Jin in a small hallway. He's held out his hand for sniffing and petted it, and he thinks he's one final exam away from being honoured with throwing that ball.

Kame's dad is nice, too. He makes conversation and isn't afraid to touch soggy tennis balls to make the dog happy. So far they've covered the weather, cherry blossoms, and traffic, and when they run out of the steam there's the dog again, giving them something to do.

"My wife had a tiny dog when we met," Kame's dad says. "But it was already quite old. When it passed away, we had a long talk and, well, we had the garden, so we could get a bigger one. I like big dogs."

Jin agrees that big dogs are nice. "I never had a dog. But I like them." He finally manages to grab hold of Ran-chan's ball, and teases her a couple of times with mock throws while she dances around him, before throwing it into the shrubs a safe distance from Kame's mom's azaleas.

Together they watch Ran-chan disappear until only a wagging tail is left to see.

"Did you have any other pets?" Kame's dad asks. "Some people like cats…"

"No, my parents didn't really… we didn't have much space. A friend of mine has a hamster, though, and sometimes I look after it."

Kame's dad laughs. "I'm sure Ran-chan would like to look after a hamster." He looks at the dog, who has deposited the ball at Jin's feet again and is looking up between them in an encouraging fashion. "Wouldn't you."

She gives a little woof, tipping her wet nose against his trousers. He laughs. "Here, let Jin-san do it," he says invitingly, and Jin swoops down for the ball and teases her again. He's quite proud that he's getting the tail to wag.

"Hamsters," Kame's dad says, shaking his head. Yeah, hamsters. And the weather and cherry blossoms. Jin's had hundreds of conversations like that, and suddenly he's flushing. He didn't want that.

They look just like that, the clients; grey and well-mannered, sometimes nice. He hates the thought, like his brain got dirty from all that whoring. Normal people who meet Kame's dad won't have that split second of wondering, of checking how he compares in the teeth and nose-hair department. He doesn't remember the last time he talked to an older guy he wasn't trying to fuck.

He throws the ball; it goes too far and bounces against the fence. Shit. "Sorry."

"Don't worry. We've had worse."

The dog tackles the ball as if it's putting up a good fight, and then proudly brings it back, dropping it straight at Jin's feet this time. It must have liked the bounce.

"See, she likes you," Kame's dad says. "She just takes a little time. Makes sure you have a decent arm." He's smiling, and Jin bites his lip with the wet ball in his hand.

"I don't throw as well as Kazuya," he says. "I never played baseball."

"Oh dear," Kame's dad smiles. "He destroyed more plants than I care to think of practising his pitch. And there was the time with the window."

Jin throws the ball again for Ran-chan, somewhat more cautiously this time. Then he casts a glance behind them. "Which one was it?" he hazards.

"The neighbor's," Kame's dad says, and Jin winces. He would have been in so much trouble.

"That's his old room, up there." Kame's dad points to the left of the upstairs windows. It's… a window, you can't see much, but Jin smiles up at it anyway. It's nice just to learn these things about Kame.

"Now my wife uses it for her paintings."

"Your wife paints?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Jin finds a cautious grin. "Abstract?"

The dad nods. "Abstract. Good word." This time he throws the ball. Brothers in dog drool, they are. It's weird, to think they know he's sleeping with their son, and they're not freaking out about it. Jin wonders if they wonder what they do. "So what do you do—" He jumps. "—for a hobby, Jin-san? Is Kazuya converting you to baseball?"

He still has a moment, where he runs a check how much he wants to reveal about himself. But that's silly, and over. "Soccer is more my thing," he says. "I used to be pretty good when I was younger, but now I don't have anybody to play with. I watch it though."

"Team?"

"Verdy."

" _Verdy?_ " Kame's dad gives him a pitying look. Ran-chan whines because she's being ignored.

"I know, okay?" Jin picks up the ball and throws it again. "But I'm not going to stop supporting them just because they're having a… bad luck streak."

"All right, I respect that," Kame's dad says. Jin thinks he sounds a little amused. "Moral fiber."

"Do you have a team you support, sir?"

"Antlers," he says, but now he sounds almost embarrassed. "Not as opportunistic as it may seem. I grew up within a stone's throw of their stadium.

Jin nods. "Shame about the AFC league."

But the dad just shrugs philosophically. "Can't win them all."

"When did you move here?" Jin asks. It's such a nice house, roomy even if there'd been more than one kid.

"Hmm, let me think. I think Kazuya was five. I inherited it from my uncle, he had no children."

Yeah, Kame mentioned they'd once been tenants. "It's a very nice house."

"Thank you. It's a good area, too. We were pleased we could send Kazuya to a good school." He stares off past a tall gingko tree, past the next row of houses.

Jin remembers how Kame feels about his education and the fact that it never really went anywhere.

And maybe Kame's dad guessed what he was thinking, because he says, somewhat quickly, "I don't blame him for it, you know. That he didn't like school. He worked very hard at other things."

"I think he appreciates that," he says. "I mean… that you think that." He feels stupid and unintelligible again, but Kame's dad smiles; nods.

He passes the tennis ball to Jin again and Jin makes it go in a high arc. They agree Ran-chan looks funny when she tries to jump.

"He doesn't come out here as much as his mother would like," he muses after a while. "He's always been very busy at his job."

Yeah. And he was married and seeing whores on the side, and Kame sometimes doesn't know what's good for him.

"Where do your parents live, Jin-san? Do you visit them often?"

"No, I… I don't," Jin says. "They live in Narashino."

Kame's dad nods in a way which probably means he doesn't know much about the place. "That's not that far away," he says.

"No," Jin admits, and doesn't really know what to add to that. "Many people commute into Tokyo. For work."

That gets him a thoughtful look, before Kame's dad retrieves the ball again and bounces it gently along the grass. "Well, if you can manage to drag Kazuya away from his work and out here more often, this lady here will be grateful to you."

Yeah, the dog. Jin likes that dog. He smiles to himself and ducks his head. "I'll see what I can do, sir."

*~*~*

"So I said I'd see what I could do," Jin says. He keeps a manga on his side of the bed, but tonight he's ignoring it, just spreads out next to Kame with his soft washed-out t-shirt and his eternally cold feet. "I mean, he sounded like he meant it."

"I'm sure he did," Kame says quickly, before Jin can start doubting himself. He was quiet for most of the drive home, processing or something, but once he started talking he found more and more to say, about Kame's parents and how wonderful they are. "I'm glad you had fun."

"Your dad is great," Jin says. Again. "I mean, so's your mom."

Kame smiles and presses his hand. "My boyfriend's not so bad, either."

"I said, you know?" Jin turns towards him with a serious face. "That… well, I didn't say anything about _sex_ , but that I know it's got to be a bit weird. For them, with you and me."

"You said that?" Kame wants to cringe, just ever so slightly. He wonders what his dad thought.

"Yeah, sort of. And I got really nervous but he said… that he's had a few weeks to get used to it and we shouldn't worry."

Kame holds on to that thought for a moment. He shouldn't be surprised, not after how they were after the scandal, but… His dad and Jin. Kame didn't have it in him to ask, about the gay thing.

"He's so nice," Jin says. On impulse Kame sneaks an arm around him, and Jin shifts in close right away.

He gives a soft laugh against Kame's chest. "I thought it would be, you know… with how it all went. I thought it would be more difficult. Even if they're… if they try. I mean, not bad, just… they didn't need to be so nice to me."

There's wonder in his voice. The stories and the food, and the dog pestering Jin for attention during dinner despite all that exercise in the garden. Jin was soaking it up. "They know my crap wasn't your fault," Kame says. Jin smells good; peaceful and familiar. It's good to have him close. Soothing.

Kame got off lightly.

Jin's tensed, like he's about to get up or turn around, but Kame keeps his fingers running through his hair until Jin relaxes again. "My mom likes you," he adds. "She told me. She said you're nice."

"She's nice, too," Jin says, and it sounds like a declaration of love.

Suddenly Kame wants to giggle. "You'll get me jealous."

"What?" Jin tenses again for a moment, and then he butts his head gently against Kame's shoulder. "Idiot. Your dog is nice too. You going to be jealous of your dog?"

Ran-chan loved Midori. Kame felt so bad when she treated Jin like an unwelcome surprise. But… she likes Jin. Everybody liked Jin, and they liked Kame too, and he feels like having a whisky maybe, only they've already brushed their teeth.

He bites his lip and doesn't giggle again, leans his head back and breathes out slowly, so Jin can't see just how relieved he is. "Totally jealous," is what he says. "She's got better hair than me."

"I love your dog." There's a grin in Jin's voice. "Let's get a dog one day."

"What?" he says. But then he thinks, they should get a dog one day. Maybe the weird thing is that he can see it right away. A house, their house, and a dog. Big enough to play with. One day.

He's going to be with Jin when they both start to have time on their hands, when their lives slow down. And then they'll have a dog.

"We should get a house then," he says. "Think we can buy a house at some point?"

"Hmmm." Jin is still grinning. "Before or after I graduate to a two-room apartment?"

"Hmmm," Kame returns. This is tricky territory, but… "Maybe if you'd allow me to throw in an extra room as your graduation present?"

Jin doesn't need all that much space. His presence barely shows in Kame's apartment – everything neatly tidied into one drawer, one shelf in the wardrobe. Right now Kame is glad they only have one room here, at least he always knows Jin's there.

"So the dog's got somewhere to run around," he adds. "When it's rainy outside." Maybe Jin will like a room for composing, Kame doesn't know how that works.

Jin's not looking at him but he's smiling, nodding. "I guess that would be fair. For the dog."

Kame leans his head back again but keeps his eyes on Jin's dark messy hair, imagines them picking wallpaper, feeling warm and a little excited. That's probably how it should have felt back then, with the first house. "Do you think the dog would prefer a single-storey or a two-storey house?"

Jin takes a moment to ponder that, his fingers drawing light thoughtful circles on Kame's naked stomach. "I think I like two levels," he says eventually. "You get different light. And it's warmer at the top and cooler downstairs." His arm curls around Kame decisively. "The dog will just have to cope."

Kame smiles to himself. "Deal. He can keep fit dashing up the stairs."

"And we won't share walls with neighbours," Jin says, sounding dreamy. "It'll be nice, you know… if we can turn the music up and not worry."

" _Your_ music," Kame whispers. "JUNGLELOW. We can have karaoke sessions…"

Jin's laugh is a soft huff against his skin. "That poor dog."

"Hey," Kame protests. "You make _nice_ music." Not that Jin has been inside a studio yet. Or has even officially started working. "When do you have to get up tomorrow?"

"Hm, early," Jin says, and it's as if the question suddenly made him drowsy. "Eight-thirty or so? Tanaka-san wants me at the office by ten." He sighs a little. "You?"

Kame watches a strand of Jin's hair unwrap from his finger. "I don't have much, I'm meeting Hamaguchi at two. I can cook us something nice before I leave, for tomorrow night. Or we could eat out. Celebrate your first day."

Jin is stirring, raising himself up until he can look at Kame. Kame's stomach takes a soft little dip just from the way Jin's eyes are suddenly so serious.

"It'll get better with your work. You're an amazing actor."

"You're kind of biased," Kame says. He wasn't even thinking about the job.

"So? I still have eyes, and a brain." He stretches up for a kiss, the kind that make Kame feel like they've known each other like this forever. "You're going to be so busy I never get to see you anymore, and our dog's going to need therapy for its abandonment issues."

Kame holds Jin there; one of those kisses is never enough, and Jin's hand is heavier on his stomach as he laughs, helpless at the thought of the dog, depressed on a couch. "Sad," he mumbles.

Jin brushes his lips over Kame's again and settles along Kame's side. They fit together so well. Kame can get a little lost in how much he wanted this, he didn't know _how_ much, until Jin was there almost every night. Just like this.

Jin's hand is playing around at Kame's hip, Jin's hair falling in both their faces when Jin kisses him again. Jin's fingers, going for a walk and raising goosebumps on Kame's legs. Jin dips his head, says hi to Kame's collarbones, Kame's neck, and somewhere low in Kame's stomach there's a pull, a shiver he just lets happen. It makes him think of promises. This is theirs now, and it won't go away anymore.

Jin is watching him, that smile still there, his weight all warm and at home. "Sleep with me," he says, and waits for Kame's nod before he steals down for another kiss.

Yes.

The rush is instant, no wonder with the time it's been and with Jin like this. But that's just blood, his body and its needs. The rest is peaceful, calm.

Jin strips his shirt off in one. Not hurried. But like he wants it off. And he wants Kame to kiss him now, strong and assertive, the way they both like it, and they get naked and Kame gets to touch him, all the ways he likes to be touched. And then Jin wants more, wants him inside and wraps tight around him, maybe the slowest they've ever done it, and out of all the times he's seen Jin arch and shake and breathe, this is just like before, and the best.

Jin's hands are still on his hips as they come down. Kame thinks his chest isn't big enough for what he's feeling.

He strokes sweaty hair out of Jin's face, leans his forehead against Jin's. Feels his shoulders rise and fall.

They can do this forever now.

 

### Thursday 7 May

"Hey," Jin says, leaning over the bar. It's noisy enough he has to raise his voice. "Is it okay if I park this in the office?" He holds up the bag, almost dangling it.

Yamashita peers around the beer contraption, at Kame's bag; at Jin. "Sure," he says. "You know the way, dude."

"I'll be right back," Jin says to Kame, a wide smile on his face. Kame nods and shifts on the tall bar stool, watching Jin bound around the bar and disappear into some narrow corridor behind a door covered in R.E.M. posters.

Behind the bar Yamashita looks up from a half-filled draft. "Hey," he says.

"Hi." Kame nods in greeting. He feels naked without the scarf and sunglasses, like there's a chilly breeze trailing all along his skin. But it's just him, going to a bar.

"Beer, was it?" Yamashita says, and Kame says, "Yes, please."

Just him, having a drink.

Yamashita puts a full tankard down in front of him. Kame thanks him and takes a deep breath. It's so chatty and busy all around it hardly counts as silence. A loud bunch of girls has occupied two tables in one corner. Someone closer to the stage is tuning a guitar.

He thinks he can feel the odd curious glance skitter down his neck, but he also knows he's alone in Jin's Thursday-night bar and bound to be in touch with his paranoid side.

The door opens again, Jin meeting his eyes with a look like he just read his mind. Then he pushes his shoulders back and bites his lip, and grabs the beer he stashed next to the sink beside Yamashita.

"So you took a taxi?" he asks.

"Yes. I thought it was more convenient."

"It is," Jin grins. "Second beer's on me."

Kame smiles, not that he's in a hurry with the beers. "It's more that I was thinking of the parking situation at your new apartment."

He's no sooner said it than he wonders if that was too much, if Yamashita needed to hear that so… like that.

Yamashita is a study in blandness. "Good thing you didn't move that far away from here, huh," he says to Jin, before giving change to an older guy with a back-to-front baseball cap.

"Yeah," Jin says, half satisfaction with his smart choice of capsule domicile and half awkwardness. He pulls the barstool that has his jacket on it closer to Kame's and hops on.

They're stuck here, at the bar, because the place is packed. "Guess we got a bit carried away," Jin says when he explains about a leaflets-in-shops initiative which he and Yamashita cooked up the other week, and which nobody thought would be so effective.

Kame rubs the dark wood and shifts again on his seat. "It's not uncomfortable." Or wouldn't be, except for the way he keeps feeling watched by Yamashita, who isn't even watching him because he's way too busy filling drinks orders.

Jin moves his knee unobtrusively so it touches Kame's. "Thank you."

*~*~*

"So today we worked on their last single, the one you know too," Jin says, after their first beers are halfway down. "It's starting to sound really good, too. We're changing it up a bit, you know, so it's not just me copying stuff."

He's been practicing most of the week, getting to know JUNGLELOW, learning their songs, and he tells Kame all about it. It makes Kame feel warm and thankful, and like something is finally going right.

Jin sounds happy, and confident - more confident than Kame has ever seen him about work stuff.

Some girl near the front waves at Jin, and he raises his beer to her. The girl's eyes fall on Kame, go a little wide, all right, oh damn, she knows him… and at once the prickly nervousness is back.

Kame takes a breath; turns to Jin, he's not here for… for being a star, for being talked to.

Jin's eyes are soft and a little shadowed. "You okay?"

Kame nods, more bravely than he feels.

"I'm glad you came," Jin says.

Kame finds a smile. Eventually he'll stop feeling like a damp shirt hung out in the breeze. "I'm glad you let me."

At the front, the girl is giggling with her neighbor and there's another sneaky look, and then they get distracted by the first guys tuning up out front.

Once the music starts, everybody will be looking at the stage anyway.

He lifts his glass to his mouth, but sets it down again. Too fast.

Jin's following the movement with his eyes, but all he says is, "And Tanaka's fine with me still singing here."

"What, you asked him?"

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't know… but it's fine. He says as long as people don't video me and put it on the internet or something, it's cool." He glances around with a fond look. "Don't know if he was serious. Can you imagine these guys doing that?"

Kame doesn't know. Doesn't know what they think, what they'll do; but he'll trust Jin's judgement.

*~*~*

"My dad would like that song," Kame comments, quiet enough so it doesn't offend anybody, after a very weepy ballad about a lonely snowflake.

Jin raises his head from his second beer. "Your dad? Really?"

Kame smiles. "Don't tell him I told you."

"It's good," says the guy on the other side of Kame. He might be the same age as Kame's dad, only shorter and balder and in biker's gear. "Good for your dad. There's a lot of emotion. Good for him he can feel it."

"Yeah?" Jin says, a grin tugging at his mouth.

The man nods very heavily. "You need to let your heart speak sometimes."

They agree solemnly. "I haven't seen you here before," Jin says. "Do you play?"

"Just dabbling. Saw a leaflet, thought I'd check this out. You?"

Kame shakes his head. "I'm with him."

"I'm on later," Jin says. "I hope you like it."

He shifts towards Kame a little to make room for the waitress who's returning with a tray of empties to exchange for the tray Yamashita has been filling with orders while they talked. "I hope you're working hard, Jin-kun," she says, startling Kame, but Jin takes it in stride.

"Working?"

She pulls the heavy tray towards her with a little grunt of effort. "You haven't told me anything about the new job yet, you must tell me later, all right? I want your face on big posters all over Tokyo, you hear me? I told my kids we know somebody famous now."

"He'll tell you," Yamashita says from a few feet away, while he's ripping caps off Bacardi Breezers and plopping ice into glasses and minding four taps at once. "Later!"

She gives Jin a quick grin before she takes off in a hurry, Yamashita blinking after her with something like gratitude.

"Shinohara-san," Jin tells Kame. "She has two teenage boys, they're great."

They've got a pretty seamless operation going here, though Kame can tell the leaflets left them understaffed, and normally Jin would probably…

"By the way," Kame says, "if you feel the urge to wash glasses or something… you'd still be here, just on the other side of the bar."

Jin barely glances behind the scarred wood, where Yamashita is fitting a fresh vodka bottle in the optic rack.

"I'm having a this-side-of-the-bar evening," he says peacefully. "Besides, I'm on soon."

It's not that soon; they sit through a slightly bizarre song containing peas and pirates, a version of the Ponyo song which Kame thinks even he could do better, and some R&B tunes which make Jin tap his feet on the foot rest and drum his fingers on his almost-empty beer glass. When a small round woman with big hair and an even bigger voice comes on to sing Hamasaki covers, Jin sits up straighter next to him. He exchanges a glance with Yamashita, who raises his eyebrows and nods.

"I'm on after her," Jin says. "Will you be okay here?"

Kame manages not to look at Yamashita. He nods quite confidently. "Sure." He's got his inebriated salaryman friend to keep him company, too, and it's not like there are any seating alternatives.

"Leave the man with me," Yamashita says, moving to their end of the bar while drying his hands on a dishtowel. "I'll keep the fans at bay."

Kame doesn't blink. Jin seems too still, until Yamashita hoists Jin's guitar from behind the bar and passes it over. "Try not to suck, okay? Remember about the little finger on the minor six."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Jin says. "Um. Don't let anybody steal my seat."

Kame promises to do his best, though it sounds weird in his head and anyway, he suspects Yamashita will do a better job of that.

Yamashita, who's looking at him.

"I don't want to interrupt your… you," Kame says. "I can see you're busy."

Yamashita flings the dishtowel over his shoulder, his eyes passing over Kame briefly. "It's okay. It gets slower when he's on, people want to listen," he says, and plants a full beer in front of Kame. Maybe he thinks that Kame playing around all evening with the stale remnants of his first beer is kind of rude.

"Sorry, I'm not really being good for business," Kame tries to joke, accepting the beer with a guilty nod.

Yamashita shrugs. "This one's on me."

"I'm… Thank you." Kame takes a sip big enough to show his appreciation.

"It was Jin's idea, this," Yamashita says idly. "With the leaflets."

Kame nods and smiles, and then worries that it seems too… proprietary or something. "If it keeps up you'll need more staff," he tries.

Yamashita rolls his eyes. "Tell me about it."

And then he's called to serve a guy at the other end, and the Hamasaki lady comes to the end of her last chorus.

Jin doesn't seem nervous when he comes on; just adjusts the mic stand upwards and launches straight into a ballad of sorts. Another English song. Kame will ask him sometime whether he actually understands what he's singing.

The audience like it. Yamashita was right, they go kind of spell-bound. Even Shinohara-san the waitress is getting time to stand by a wall and just watch.

"See," Yamashita says quietly behind him, and Kame turns to find him back at this end of the bar, slicing lemons.

"Hi," Jin says on the stage, to immediate squeals from the girls in the front row. Jin ducks his head, but it doesn't hide the grin on his face. "I'm Jin. Some of you know me." There's some laughter mixing in with the squealing, and Jin's grin gets wider.

Kame is intrigued. He didn't do a talk last time. But Yamashita doesn't seem surprised.

"Before I start my next song, I wanted to let you guys know… I mean, those who know me. But, um. Everybody else is okay too."

Yamashita cracks up, trying hard to stifle his laughter. Even Kame finds it funny.

Jin rolls his eyes at himself. "Right, okay. Hi, everybody. I just wanted to say, last week I got signed to work for Jokertown Records and I'm going to work as a singer in JUNGLELOW and—"

He gets drowned out by a swell of clapping and whooping, and Kame is swept up in a rush of happiness.

Jin's smiling. He seems to consider waiting until he can finish his sentence, but after a few seconds the smile becomes a grin and he shrugs, says a few words to the drummer behind him, and launches into the rich, pounding chords of his second piece.

People know that one, even Kame knows it, it's a cover of something famous and, for a change, Japanese. He taps along to the beat and quietly sings the few lines he remembers, about white towns and snow piling up, and Jin is beautiful on stage, and shining with conviction, and everything is going to be all right.

The applause when he finishes is noisy and long, and eventually Jin just shakes his head and jumps off the stage, pretends to run away.

"Break time," Yamashita says behind Kame. "We found out it's good to bring him on just before then."

Kame can see why; it wouldn't be fun for the singer coming on right after. There's a little plush Hello Kitty flying that Jin catches and throws back to the girls, and shoulder-slapping from the more touchy-feely types as Jin tries to move, but finds that everybody wants to talk to him, congratulate him.

Today's announcement would make that worse than usual. Jin finds Kame's eyes, and looks like he's trying to apologize, so Kame raises his beer glass and smiles, and hopes it's enough. _Enjoy it_ , he wants to say. There's nothing better than watching Jin enjoy this.

"So, the two of you," Yamashita says, with just the half-meter of bar between them. But even the sudden stab of nerves is easier to handle, somehow, while Kame's so happy. A little. "That's all settled now?"

"Yeah."

Yamashita hasn't looked this directly at him all evening. "Like, for real."

"Yeah," Kame says. "For real."

It's a weirdly still moment in the noise roundabout. Jin over there, chatting happily where Kame can't hear. Yamashita silent, weighing… whatever.

"I guess I'll see you around then," he says. His nod is half an invitation.

"I'm looking forward to it." Kame can only show up, let it grow. Yamashita knows what he was. No proof he'll have except time.

Jin is making his way back to Kame slowly, that smile on his face which Kame saw here for the first time. Gesturing brightly as he talks to people, holds his guitar, an ease nobody in that other place ever saw. The frayed jeans and t-shirt make him more beautiful than any silk and make-up.

"That was a good song," Yamashita says conversationally.

"It was. He was great." They can all see that. Everybody's going to see that. "He'll be just great."

~

_Epilogue to follow 12/04/2012_


	58. Epilogue

### Friday 26 June

Kame gets divorced on a Friday in late June. The paperwork comes in the mail between a DIY catalogue and a Hakone postcard from his mother. His seal on it is the last thing that's missing, three years of his life and the biggest lie he ever told.

"What's… oh," Jin says, leaning over Kame's shoulder. He's warm and near and he smells of Jin, of home.

"Yeah," Kame says. "The paperwork always takes a while."

"You okay?"

Kame turns his head, smiles at Jin. He's got nothing to hide. "Absolutely okay." He puts his name and his seal on it, and then it's done.

 

### Saturday 27 June

They got the line-up right for the All Star Games, Kame thinks. Four weeks to go, and Kame wonders if he should try to get them tickets and fly them out there, take advantage this summer while work is still slow.

The window by the bed is wide open and so's the balcony door in the kitchen. Summer has arrived, but the mild draft tickles Kame's ears and his bare toes and makes the heat bearable.

"Hm, I don't know." Jin has his phone stuck between his shoulder and his ear, frowning at his laptop where he was last trying to look for an e-mail. "Have you asked him?"

Kame stretches up from his sprawl on the couch and fishes for the remote to turn down the music.

"Well, yeah, but. You're kind of in a band. He might be, I don't know. Shy about it."

Kame leafs through the magazine and smiles at the little sidebar on the music pages that mentions new releases. No picture, but at least the name's transliterated right. According to Jin, Tanaka wasn't too happy with _Young Song_ when they introduced Akanishi Hitoshi.

"No, god, I meant _kind of_ as in, we're not Mr. Children." Then Jin hums and nods again, the e-mails ignored for the time being.

Kame was allowed to get him the laptop as an early birthday present, to use here and in Jin's own apartment, though half the time Jin forgets it wherever he had it last, and then complains. Kame didn't dare suggest he could simply get him two.

"I don't know… I thought he liked you. Yes. No. Well, just mail him, that can't hurt?" There's a longer silence on Jin's side. Then he makes a face. "Yeah… tonight. Thanks. I'll try. Okay, see you on Monday."

When he's hung up, he doesn't go back to what he was doing; just looks into space with a littlepouting frown.

Kame pushes the bowl with the chocolates closer towards him. "Something wrong?"

"No," Jin says, then grins. "Depends. Misa, she's got boy trouble."

"Again?"

"Yeah, some guy from the pamphlet shoot. Lots of meaningful glances." Jin waggles his eyebrows just as meaningfully, and Kame laughs. "Also she wants me to say something about the single tonight."

Kame nods. "You should."

Jin gives him a narrow look but doesn't follow up, just looks around for the stack of t-shirts he threw over the other end of the sofa. They're a colourful mess. "I'm going to fold these up," he says manfully. "Do you have anything?"

"That's from the dryer, isn't it? There's a few of mine in there." Kame is sure he sees the pink one. "But you don't have to do that, it can wait till Wednesday."

He gets up and pulls the pink one out, anyway. It's reminded him that he has something to sort out with his most scarily deferential tenant.

Jin grins when Kame strips off his dark dress shirt and pulls on the wrinkled t-shirt. "Kondou-san's bathroom?"

"Yeah. Almost forgot." Early afternoon on a Saturday is a good time for these visits. "Won't be long."

He spends the next twenty minutes hearing apologetic explanations about the mold that even in June just won't stay out of one particular corner of the bathroom, and promises to send somebody around to treat the wall and have a look at the ventilation. He also learns about the progress of two daughters and five grandchildren and finally comes away with a bag of bean cakes and earnest instructions to share them with Jin.

When he returns, the t-shirts are in two neatly folded piles, and Jin is heating water for tea.

"Brought you something," Kame says, swinging the bag gently before dumping it on the counter. "Rewards of honest labour."

Jin eyes the bean cakes and Kame in turn. He snatches Kame by the pink shirt and plants a kiss on him. "Being cute doesn't count as honest labour." He tastes vaguely of the chocolates.

"Damn," Kame says. "Must stick with the acting then, they always let me get away with it."

Jin smiles; stands back and ruffles his hair. "You going to shower?"

"I showered this morning. Do you think I smell?"

"No." He smoothes the t-shirt down Kame's front in a pretty futile gesture. "But I know you'll wash your hair again anyway."

That's true, he will. But he can worry about hair later. "Thought you were making tea," he says.

"Yeah." A little frown passes over Jin's face, and he turns to get cups, measures out the leaves carefully. He watches the steam rise after he's poured.

They have four hours yet before they need to get going. They'll have a light dinner in two and get ready after that, and not even Kame needs longer in the bathroom, not even for this. Until then they will relax.

When the tea is ready, Kame settles back where he was with his cup and grabs the sports section of Asahi Shinbun, while Jin flips open the magazine at the music pages and looks adorable reading a review he seems to be disagreeing with.

The regional Summer Koushien tournaments are well underway, but there aren't any big surprises yet, no underdogs to get excited about. Still, that may come. Some promising players in third year, and as always Kame gets that little tug inside, wondering what if he hadn't been in his seventh drama by then, if he hadn't been too busy to even train by the time he was eighteen…

"Are you sure you're sure about this?"

Kame looks up. He hadn't noticed how Jin went quiet until now, but he must have been brooding over his tea cup silently for minutes.

He doesn't have to ask what it's about, of course. "Don't do this to me. I thought we settled it last week."

"Yeah," Jin says. "Just… you don't think it's too early?"

Kame knows all the arguments, knows them well. They touch a nerve deep down and give him the jitters. But it's also time, and it's other things too.

"It's time," he says. "So stop being me."

Jin grins suddenly and looks Kame up and down in a way that can only spell trouble. Kame balls up a flyer for last-minute July vacations and pitches it at him.

"Ow," Jin says obediently when it hits him on the head.

It's been almost two months since Jin quit his job, and they have nothing to be ashamed of.

*~*~*

Kame got married on a sweltering June day, three years, three weeks and three days ago. Midori joked with him that her traditional brideswear was like carrying around a personal sauna. He let his parents throw them a party, not too flashy but big enough that people got to see him and his beautiful wife, and the picture they made together.

There were photographers, official ones invited by the agency and some less official ones, invited less officially, and the way the news trickled into all corners of the business was just right. The biggest lie he ever told, and then some.

He didn't have the house yet, so they went to his apartment that night, the one where he'd fought with Souji, and lived with him, and missed him. Midori was tipsy and happy, and Kame sat on the bed waiting for her to finish in the bathroom, tired from a long, flawless day but ready for all the others to come. His mind was clear, and quite, quite calm. He did it all quite well.

#### *~*~*

The car slows down on the last curve of the driveway, giving Jin just a glimpse of the roped-off entrance, a moment to get ready.

Kame's face is set in square blankness. If he pulled out a sword to march off to a duel, it wouldn't come as a surprise. Well, the samurai would find the tux interesting.

Jin bites his lip hard enough to hurt, trying not to giggle. It's not funny. It's just his nerves.

Then the limousine before them takes off, and they slow to a halt. "Think I'll get my own door," Jin says without moving.

Kame nods quickly before pushing the door on his side open. "Come on," he simply says.

There's noise. Bright lights; cameras. Lots of people talking, someone a few steps ahead giving quick interviews. A lady nearer the hotel door is showing off her shoes for a photographer.

Kame has stepped around the car and is giving Jin a confident smile. "You should get used to this," he says in a conversational voice. "Good practice for after your first album."

The album is so far from Jin's mind, Kame might be talking about their future dog. First they need to survive _this_. The reporters stay behind the ropes, trying to catch their eyes, and Jin thinks he can _feel_ the glare of attention focusing on Kame.

"Kamenashi-san," says a bright cheerful voice; a young woman… the cook's love interest. Jin's liked her ever since she threw chicken guts at Kame.

Kame is smiling at her, ignoring the cameras for now. "Kumasaka-san, good evening. Congratulations on your award," he says, making her blush. Then Kame introduces Akanishi Jin, friend, and the girl introduces her mother.

"Morioka had his sister at the movie premiere," Kame had said at home, convincing himself more than Jin. "A guy I once knew brought his eighty-six year old granny when he won Best Newcomer."

Kame and Kumasaka chat for a bit, with Jin and the girl's mother hanging in the background, and it keeps them occupied away from the reporters. Still they're both smiling in a totally camera-ready fashion. Jin thinks he'll probably never learn that, not that he has to, no matter what Kame's fantasizing about the album.

Oh god they're out here, being photographed.

And his stomach should stop doing that.

Kame gives him a smile over his shoulder, another confident one that says he's not trying to pretend Jin's not here. The girl and her mother are at the door, where the rope lines get narrower and suddenly Kame is talking to a reporter.

Jin nearly stops, right there on the red carpet. He feels like he's lurking, stuck behind Kame's back like that. If you can lurk in plain sight.

"Nice to see you again, Maemi-san," Kame is saying. "Did you get to cover the World Series again this year?"

"I did, it was extremely interesting," the woman says. She's just a little older than they, her tone friendly, her eyes hungry anyway. "Will you be accepting the Best Drama award on behalf of _Served Cold_?"

"Yes. Unfortunately our director couldn't make it, so I feel very honoured."

The director was busy. Kame is not busy these days, he doesn't have a summer drama. But at least the auditions are serious again, they think. Kame's agent thinks.

Kame takes half a step back, and the reporter stops pretending she's not staring at Jin. "Let me introduce you to Akanishi Jin. He's a friend of mine, and he's releasing his first single next week."

"Oh, how interesting!" the reporter says in the same busy voice. Kame nods subtly.

"Good evening," Jin says with a little bow. His ears are rushing with blood like they haven't since he stopped chatting up guys in dark street corners, but he can still keep it together. "I have joined JUNGLELOW, and we have a single next week. _Tiger's Tale_."

"Oh, congratulations!" She whips around and turns bright eyes back on Kame. "Kamenashi-san, did you choose to come with a friend because bringing another woman this soon would hurt your wife?"

Kame stays totally still. Jin is confused; this is such a generous interpretation, what does she _want_ … "I hope you'll forgive me, Maemi-san," Kame says, polite but not even trying to flirt. "I still don't comment on my private life, or on that of my wife."

She blushes, and looks almost like she means it when she lets them go saying, "Enjoy the ceremony, please!"

It's easy to follow Kame. Then they're inside.

"You learn to pick the friendlier ones," Kame says quietly. "It's easier than trying to avoid them."

Jin nods and makes a mental note he hopes he'll never need.

It's a glitzy lobby, polished marble and dark wood counters. Silently moving waiters that offer Champagne, tiny little snacks. In another life he might take the glass elevator to the top floor now and somebody there would pay for two hours…

"Relax," Kame says with a smile, but he doesn't know what it's about.

Jin is glad he has a new tux.

No reporters in here. Just more people in really fancy clothes, more colour than Jin would have seen at the club. More women, of course. Kame swipes Champagne for them off a tray, says thanks to the bland waiter, and next thing their glasses are both half empty and they're smiling at each other.

"It starts in ten minutes," Kame says. Jin can tell he's trying to be productive and organized. They agreed not to come too early, and that they could leave as soon as they wanted to afterwards.

They take a sharp left – away from those elevators, guided by courteous staff along a red-carpeted corridor to a second room that is not quite as tall and grand as the lobby, but tries to make up for it with red and white garlands draped along the walls and the podium, the lights just the right kind of low to give everything a shine. The plush red chairs have little notes on them with people's names. Jin is 'Kamenashi-sama, Companion-sama'.

They don't try to involve themselves in conversations, though Kame says a friendly hello to one or two men going past. There's a gaggle of people looking even more organized and productive than Kame, and— oh god there's Sakurai Sho, and Jin knew he was hosting this thing but his stomach flips anyway, and he wouldn't mind finding a table to hide under or… something.

But he remains cool and Kame doesn't notice, and they sit down. There are more cameras. Kame's wearing that smile again. Jin makes sure he looks interested and not at all misplaced, then nearly jumps out of his skin when someone leans in from behind them and says, "Hi Kamenashi-san, I didn't see you earlier."

They both turn round. Kame's smile gets deeper and more real. "We just got here."

It's Morioka, Kame's antagonist from the cook drama and winner of Best Supporting Actor, but someone better behaved shushes them as the lights dim further. "Later," Morioka whispers.

Kame is on pretty early, and Jin is too nervous to think much about how good he looks and how smoothly he handles everything. He accepts the award for the drama with much gratitude and gets in a lot of flattering comments to everybody on the team, and it's flawless to the end. There's polite applause and then that's that, and Jin breathes a sigh of relief. Kame doesn't do even that, he's that good. To anyone else, he probably didn't look nervous at all.

Jin has never heard of the guy who gets Best Actor but Kame whispers he's incredibly talented and played an excellent dying salaryman in some NTV drama. Morioka gets his shiny golden plaque, and the love interest woman gets Best Supporting Actress.

The whole thing takes half an hour, tops, and most of that is people posing with awards and flowers for the cameras. Then they break up and it's back to the grandiose lobby, where a buffet has been set up and more Champagne produced.

Jin lets Kame get them the drinks again, and then Kame spots Morioka and his date by one of the giant floral displays. Morioka is smiling in their direction but not moving.

"Come on," Kame says. "I want to introduce you properly."

This is the friendly guy who got photographed going to a restaurant with Kame. Who behaved decently to Kame when stuff was going on. There's no reason to feel nervous.

"I see you both still got some Champagne despite our misbehaviour in there," Morioka says, holding up his own glass and grinning. He looks nice, not at all fierce and haunted like in the drama.

Kame is smiling easily, and Jin has to look very hard to see the determination underneath. "This is my friend Akanishi Jin. Jin, this is Morioka Akihito, former student then employer."

Morioka laughs, and there are the appropriate bows. "It's nice to meet you, Akanishi-san."

"Now don't tell me you have another beautiful sister," Kame adds, and the girl blushes and tries to cover her smile.

"I'm Yamada Yumie," she says, to which Kame makes a noise of recognition.

"Of course," he says. "Uemura, right?"

"Last year," the girl says, still blushing. "Though this year I would like to work more in fashion."

Jin keeps smiling and hopes nobody expects him to know the difference between Uemura and the suits Kame was supposed to model.

The girl bows at him politely before her eyes flicker back to Kame, and there's a weird little pause. Who knows what she's heard, what she's thinking.

"I thought the spring lines were very interesting this year," Kame says to her, and it turns out Yamada-san doesn't just model dresses but has opinions about them too, and they both agree that surgical masks were a bold aesthetic choice on some week of fashion.

"Somehow I can follow more when he talks about baseball," Morioka says to Jin.

"Hm, yeah," Jin says cautiously.

"Though there was that one time he tried to explain to me how to pitch a good 12-6 curve…" Yamada-san is saying something about sexualized clowns, and Morioka shares a look with Jin that says the throwing lesson was still better.

"I wouldn't know a 12-6 curve if it hit me on the head, either," Jin admits. "But I'm learning."

"You're not a fan?"

Jin makes a face to show he has to be tactful about baseball. "Soccer's really my thing."

"And music, right? Kamenashi-san said you're in a band now?"

"Yeah," Jin says quickly, before his brain has even caught up. "JUNGLELOW. He told you about— it?"

"It came up. Congratulations, too. When's the release?"

Jin can't help throwing a glance at Kame, who is still in friendly discussion, and who mentions Jin's band at work. Mentions Jin. "Next week," he answers at last. "I'm a bit nervous, to be honest."

Morioka surprises him by grinning. "Yeah. That gets easier, but it doesn't really go away."

"Thanks," Jin grins. "That's cheerful."

Morioka laughs guiltily. "You'll get first-class lessons at handling it, though." He nods at Kame, with a respect that lets Jin knows it's about more than dealing with awards shows.

Yes, Jin thinks, to a wild burst of pride. He will.

"I heard that they want to turn our teacher movie into a series," Morioka adds thoughtfully. "Is he going to take it?"

He just assumes Jin will know, and… Jin needs a moment for his mind to stop reeling from that, and when it does he's still not sure what Kame would want him to say.

But this guy knows about them, and he seems to care about Kame, and so Jin says, "He's not sure, it depends. He auditioned for a movie with a boxer in it, too, and he'd rather take that. He seems pretty optimistic."

Morioka looks pleased. "Well, knowing him, he could probably do both."

But then he'd never be home, Jin thinks, and he almost says it, but catches himself in time. There's candid and there's stupid.

"Yeah, I guess," he says when he finds nothing else instead, but Morioka just smiles and wonders aloud how much actual boxing training there will be.

"You do boxing?" the model says, with a very funny look at Kame's face.

"Not yet," Kame says. "I managed the nose all by myself."

And she's off blushing again, while Jin and Morioka chuckle quietly, and suddenly there's a voice Jin knows behind him and he sees Kame's eyes widen and his face fall into the polite film-star persona, and it's Sakurai Sho, who says, "I see half our winners are congregating right by the Champagne."

Jin had started to hope they'd get out of here without this. But surely Sakurai can't want to talk about club things, either.

It's Morioka who replies first, even if it's merely a greeting and more thanks for the award. Jin says nothing while Kame says hello, while Morioka's date is introduced and Sakurai compliments her. When Kame says, "And this is my friend Akanishi," in that firmly pleasant voice Jin knows, Sakurai finally looks at him, and Jin thinks maybe he's been putting this off as long as he could, too.

"I'm Akanishi," he says, "pleased to meet you."

"Yes," Sakurai says, "very pleased." But the look that flickers back to Kame has uncertainty behind the professional face.

"Akanishi is part of JUNGLELOW," Kame says. "You might have heard of them, they play rock music which is quite popular in some circles."

Sakurai nods agreeably. "I see. That's very good."

What he sees is that Kame is making up a good story for his escort. Four months ago he'd have been right.

Four months ago Kame wouldn't have done this.

What does Sakurai think Kame is doing?

Jin finds a smile, one of those old ones he doesn't have to mean. He'll never like this, it feels like bragging all the time, but just for now it's… necessary. "We are releasing a new single next week," he says. "I was fortunate enough to be taken on by Jokertown Records and join the band earlier this year."

Sakurai nods with an attractive little smile, thinking whatever thoughts, possibly about Tanaka too, now. "So this is your first single?"

"The first since I joined the band," Jin says smoothly. "If we do well, maybe you'll catch us on TV sometime."

"I'll definitely look out for that," Sakurai says. He shoots Kame a wry glance which makes Kame give a little bow.

"Me too!" Morioka's date chimes in, and Jin thanks them both, a belated flush taking over his face.

Sakurai moves on shortly after that, to be a good host and catch up with everybody else. Yamada-san confesses how much she likes his programs, and Morioka says he is terribly wounded and will have to learn about curve balls after all.

The conversation happens without Jin for a while, as he lets it all settle and watches Kame with his friendly smile and his untouched Champagne.

So now they've done that too. Kame's colleagues, people from before. It'll get easier.

Kame is holding on to his glass a little tightly, but his eyes are clear and he's not afraid to look at Jin.

Soon they can go home.

 

#### *~*~*

Kame fell in love over peanut bars and hamsters and boring soccer, when he didn't even know. He falls in love again over a hundred little things, over e-mails about dinner and weird sauces in his fridge and Jin coming home high and happy from lives, the heartbreak of Jin missing his brothers, his key to Jin's apartment, sixty volumes of _One Piece_ Jin buys with his second salary, and Jin's hideous thick socks when he concedes the time has come to put the aircon on.

It trips him every time it happens, that little plunge when he knows here's a thing it would kill him to lose. So many of them, all the right things now, and that makes it worse and more frightening than before but also better. So much better, he can't even say.

Though sometimes he tries. It makes Jin blush, or poke him, or kiss him into silence. That's one of those things too.

*~*~*

The ceiling is a friendly orange. Kame is glad for his comfortable sofa, the safely locked door, the sounds Jin is making in the kitchen.

Jin has put the lights on low with the remote, a soft foreign tune playing that Kame doesn't understand the words to.

There's music so much more often now. He even likes a lot of it.

He's not ashamed of still quivering on the inside. Jin gets it. Kame can see in the wry smiles and in the full glasses of Montrachet Jin pours that he gets it.

He puts the glass in Kame's hands, then sits down, making Kame pull his feet in.

The wine goes down well. This is one part where Jin still lets him splurge, though Kame has stopped buying the imported Italian water and they rent the BluRays from an online video store now.

"That was interesting," Jin observes, staring into space while the first gulps of the wine do their thing. "You know, when people… actually care what you do. Want to write about it."

"You'll get used to it," Kame says. Easing Jin's mind about his new career is still a reflex.

Jin looks him over, eyebrows rising ever so slowly.

"I'll get used to it too."

They don't know what's going to be in the papers tomorrow. Not everybody is like Maemi-san.

But Tanaka gave his okay, and Kumasaka-san had her mother there, and all evening they didn't come close enough to touch.

Kame shifts towards Jin. Time to make up for that.

Jin pulls him against himself, cautious because of the wine, and for a while they sit quietly and sip their drink, and wait for the evening to fall off them. Cozy.

Jin's still wearing the formal shirt, half undone, but he's pulled on thin drawstring pants underneath. It's still warm outside, and the blinds are now holding off the breeze.

He has a view of Jin's guitar from here, next to the bookshelf. Jin's mangas, which are dog-eared already like Kame's would never be. Kame's tiny unloved CD collection and the demos Jin brings home from work.

"I like this place much better with your stuff here," Kame says. "Don't take too much back to yours, okay?"

"You like it messy?" Jin says, a smile in his voice. "I never knew."

Kame has more of the wine and closes his eyes. He feels drifty, like he's up somewhere high, but always anchored. "Just… living here, you know? When I bought this… I wasn't here much." It was just a place he ran away to. "It's more real, like this, with your things."

Jin laughs softly. "Boy, can I make it real for you."

"Do your worst," Kame smiles. "I like keeping it real." Now. Finally.

Jin squints at him like he's puzzling something out. "You know not everything has to be a statement, right? Sometimes my crap is just crap. I mean, you can tell me if it gets in your way."

"I know," Kame says. "But you know what I mean. I like… the way this feels." Real over fake. Truth over lies.

Jin leans in and kisses him briefly. "Yeah, I know." Then he sits back and pulls Kame into a steely hug. "So, about today. Are you feeling okay about it?"

"Yes," Kame says instantly. He lets himself slide down until his shoulders are in Jin's lap.

Jin snorts. "I mean, not how you _mean_ to feel about it or how you think you _should_ feel about it."

"No," Kame says. "For real." He draws a little circle on Jin's cotton-clad knee. "You were there. The sky didn't fall on us. We drank Champagne together and talked to my colleagues together and you were there. And now you are here. I think today is perfect."

He closes his eyes again and feels Jin's fingers starting to move in his hair.

"And tomorrow?" Jin asks.

Tomorrow will have songwriting and laundry and dishes, band practice and drama auditions, hard work and coming home and reading manga and folding shirts, and Jin will be there.

The truth has never been so easy.

~

_END_


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